A Matter of Miserable Time
by abba2zabba15
Summary: Santana/Brittany. "His voice was deep, quiet, and sure, so calm compared to the last words they had exchanged. Her voice was only a faint whisper as she questioned the man she hadn't spoken to in three years.'Papi.'" ADOPTED WITH PERMISSION!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N****: **_**THIS IS NOT MY ORIGINAL STORY!**_** The ideas, as well as the first few sections, come from the author **1964-2010**. I adopted the story, edited it, and added onto it **_**WITH THE AUTHOR'S PERMISSION.**_

**If you want to read that story, (just a heads up, it's incomplete), it can be found here:**

**.net/s/7424796/1/A_Matter_of_Miserable_Time**

**Thank you so much to the wonderful **1964-2010** for allowing me to take this incredible story and make it my own. They deserve all the credit for this amazing story idea, though most of the words are my own. Thank you and enjoy!**

**A/N 2: ****I'm also sorry for the formatting issues. I had originally had line breaks in where the points of view switched, but I realized that it didn't transfer when I uploaded this document. I've had to update the same chapter a few times, because the things I'm trying so far haven't been working. I apologize, and hope I fix them very soon.**

A Matter of Miserable Time

The one rule Mario Lopez ever took seriously was his wife's wish that he keep his smoking designated to his study. The thick smoke from his cigars would linger in the otherwise empty house for weeks and sink itself into the fabric, and Angelica Lopez hated shopping for new furniture once a month. Granted money hasn't been an issue for the couple for at least twenty years now. So many nights, Angelica would often see a thin beam of light sneaking out from under Mario's study door, and as she walked by, she could often smell the evidence of his disgusting habit.

It was 2:30 in the morning, and the only light on in the house was in the study. Mario couldn't sleep. His wife had fallen asleep hours ago. He could tell because the bedroom that they shared fell silent after hard, hurtful sobs slowly stopped echoing down the hall and creeping into the room he had gone to in an attempt to escape the reasons behind his wife's cries. He wasn't ready to face _that_ reality just yet. But most of all, he wasn't ready to tell the person that he knew he must. But she had a right to know. She was his daughter, after all.

The daughter he hadn't spoken to in three years.

It took him a few minutes to look for her number. Ever since _that_ night, the two decided it was best that they lost all contact with each other, except, that wasn't exactly what had happened. She had tried to keep up communications, at least with her mother. He was the one who had severed all ties.

It was scary how fast the two managed to disown each other. His initial rejection, her moving out, graduating, and moving to New York happened too fast for either to really come to terms with. The things he said that night, the monster he became… it made him sick. But after his wife's newly diagnosed illness, it was all he could think about. It was funny because he hadn't thought about it at all in the three years he and his daughter didn't talk.

He finally found an old address book buried in his desk. It was small and tucked away in the back of a drawer he never touched. He skimmed the various relatives' names he had listed in alphabetical order and eventually came across his daughter's name. Beneath her name he saw the neatly scrawled phone number. Her handwriting was so innocent, so pure. He remembered the day she wrote it in. She had smiled, and giggled, laughing as he insisted she write down the number. It was her first cell phone, and by putting the number down on paper, she had felt like an adult.

He couldn't help but smile as he thought back to when they were still a family, back to when he considered her a daughter. He dropped the little blue book in disgust when he recalled the words he said to the girl, _his_ baby girl, that night.

Mario sat in silence for a few more minutes, glancing at the page with the number on it. She had a right to know. She _is_ her mother's daughter, after all.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Brittany and Santana were still wide awake. It was the weekend and an old friend had stopped by to visit them.

Quinn was still Brittany and Santana's closest friend in college, even after the Unholy Trinity had been broken up, and had moved away from each other.

It was nice to get visits from her. She brought back a little bit of Lima with her. The good part, that is. The happy part; the part where the three used to bust their asses for Sue, go swimming during the summer, have sleepovers, and watch One Tree Hill. And most importantly, she brought back Glee Club.

She was a reminder of the best days of their childhood, the fun, carefree days. With Quinn, Brittany and Santana could talk about where everyone from Glee had gone. They would all go together to see Rachel's shows, and every once in a while they'd catch up with Kurt downtown for lunch. Quinn was the best part of home. And Santana was forever thankful for her, though she would be hesitant to admit it.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Mario Lopez was sitting still, slumped down in his chair. By now he had the office phone in his hand and the dial tone was quietly humming from the ear piece that hung in the air. He was frozen in his chair and his chest began to tighten up and the pace of his breathing increased. His palms became sweaty and the plastic phone began to slip out of his hands.

He took a few deep breaths and looked back down at his daughter's cell phone number. He couldn't do it. He couldn't swallow his damn pride and talk to her.

Mario's hand shook, and he almost put the phone back down, but he ground his teeth, and lifted his right hand. The beep of the first number being pressed sounded ominous in the quiet house.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana could tell that Brittany was getting sleepy. The way she adjusted herself in Santana's lap was a clear indication she was finding a comfortable position to doze off in. She moved herself on the bed they shared together and allowed Brittany to get completely comfortable, brushing her hair slowly with her finger tips as she waited for her to finally doze off.

Quinn glanced up from the T.V. show they were watching and smiled at her two friends. She loved being with them. And yeah, sometimes she felt like the awkward third wheel, but they brought out the best in each other, mainly that when Santana was with Brittany, she wasn't a bitch. And when they were together, it's like nothing bad had ever happened in their lives.

It was like Brittany never got teased for being stupid, Quinn was never pregnant, and Santana had never been rejected by her family. These girls, to Quinn, were family. And no matter how dysfunctional that family may be, it was definitely a hell of a lot better than her biological family.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Mario was now beginning to control his breathing. His chest was no longer tight, and he didn't feel the need to gag anymore. He paused for a few seconds before hitting the last number, tensing his shoulders up and digging his elbows into the hardwood desk as if he was propping himself up.

The phone rang three times before an automated voice came over the line and stated that the number was no longer in service.

His heart dropped. His hand began shaking with the receiver still up to his ear. His free hand hung the phone up and he sat in silence for a few seconds longer, coming to terms with exactly how much his daughter had cut herself free from him.

He looked at the notebook again, he saw the other girl's number. It was a cell number too. Mario took a deep breath. It was worth a shot.

He studied the number and then proceeded to dial it, once again putting the phone to his ear.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Quinn was sitting closest to Brittany's phone when it became to vibrate. She looked at it, confused at first. Who the hell calls at 2:30 in the morning? She picked it up and let it continue to vibrate in her hand. "Hey San, Britt's phone is ringing".

Santana looked back from behind a now sleeping Brittany. "Who is it?" she whispered softly.

"No idea, just a number."

Santana sighed in annoyance and held out a hand. "Give it to me, I'll answer it." She moved over Brittany quietly, not even disrupting her sleep, something she had perfected years ago. Without looking at the number, Santana slid the iPhone unlock and answered it quietly but still with a forceful tone. After all, it _was_ 2:30 in the morning.

"Hello?" She waited for a reply.

Mario's heart sank when he heard his daughter on the other end of the line. The other girl he could deal with, but his daughter… he didn't know what to say to her. But he knew there was no going back now.

He didn't know why, and he couldn't stop himself from saying it, but the words, "You need to come home", were all he could get out. No 'Hello', no 'How are you doing', just the words that needed to be said. His heart was racing.

Santana froze and her bottom lip began to quiver. His voice was deep, quiet, and sure, so calm compared to the last words they had exchanged. But that was three years ago. Of course he would have changed. She didn't expect him to stay exactly the same person.

Her voice was only a faint whisper when she questioned the man she hadn't spoken to in three years.

"Papi?"

He let out a deep sigh over the phone and into her ear. "Santana, you need to come home." His heart clenched when he said her name. It's the first time he'd spoken it in three years.

There's silence between the two of them. Neither one could think of anything to say. The shock, the hurt, the awkwardness could still be felt by both parties. Santana could hear the memory of his screaming words echoing in her mind

She could tell by the shuddering in his deep, exhausted breathing that he was fighting tears. She remained silent, waiting for him to speak.

"Bring Brittany back with you, too." He finally finds himself adding. He doesn't know why he said it. He hasn't said _that_ name in such a long time, refusing to even think about the blonde girl that grew up with his daughter. But for some reason, he thinks that it will be enough motivation for Santana to agree to come home. He's right.

"You're…" His voice trails off in thought, looking for a way to word what he's going to say next. "You're going to need her." With those five words, he can't stand it anymore. Mario begins to look for ways to finish the conversation.

"I can fly you out here tomorrow, both of you. Santana, you need to be here." His words are tearing Santana in two. "Just, please, come home…"

At first she doesn't say anything. The shock is too great, and the emotions are too strong for her to say anything to him. She nods her head, agreeing to come back, but when she realizes he can't see her, she verbally agrees to it with a weak, "Okay. Call me back tomorrow, please? I need to talk to Britt-" she stops herself, afraid of bringing Brittany up. Granted, her father brought her up a few seconds earlier, but she was still afraid of his reaction to the girl. "I just need some time to think…"

"I understand. I'll call you when I have your tickets and everything ready."

And with that, without a goodbye, Mario hung up on the daughter he hadn't talked to in three years, finally allowing himself to lose control of the stinging tears he had fought his hardest to hold back as he talked to her. And as he played the conversation over in his head, he couldn't help but think, _She sounded _good. And with that thought, he broke down into tiny pieces across the floor of his study.

Quinn could tell that Santana's emotions had completely shifted in the span of the small telephone call she shared with the person on the other end of the line. She wanted to question her friend, ask her what was wrong, but she knew better. She knew Santana's relationship with her father. Quinn knew that what Santana really wanted was to be left alone. She knew she had to leave the girl there, to her own thoughts. This, of course, was going against every natural instinct she had of comforting the girl.

It would have been pointless to make an excuse of sudden tiredness or that she just remembered she had a busy day tomorrow. Quinn knew Santana would see right through it. So she decided to quietly slip away. Quinn stood softly told Santana goodbye, and cautiously stepped outside of the apartment.

Santana sat in silence, feeling an emotion she hadn't felt for three years began to creep into her skin: fear. She hadn't felt fear in three years, even after she came out at school, because the looks, the remarks, none of that mattered to her. She always fell back to Brittany in her times of need and nothing anyone else said was important. Words from strangers, as harsh as they were at times, were just that - words. The love she shared for Brittany was unbreakable, and that was all she needed.

The only sense of fear she got came from her father. He was a strict, forceful man. His word was law, his voice was God. He was cold, distant, unpleasing and angry.

Mario Lopez was always angry, as far back as she could remember, but she never knew the reasons why, and asking him was just out of the question. The night of complete rejection is a night she often looks back to. As much as it completely breaks her very essence of being, she looks back to it and sees the night she decided to start living. She knew that that night was the final straw, the end of it. No more running, no more being ashamed. That night, those words, the yelling, everything, it was the final obstacle holding her back from Brittany, and she was going to take it either way it came.

Looking back on it, though, Santana knew that it could have only gone one way. It was silly of her to think that her parents, specifically her father, would have thrown away everything they were raised believing, in an hour. She did, however, think that being his daughter would have earned her more. She didn't expect to be accepted in an hour, hell, even a week, but she did expect to be accepted.

As far as she knew, that hadn't happened yet. He called her tonight, yes, but she knew that it must have been something extremely important to get him to contact her. Santana wished that him finally reaching out to her had happened sooner, and not because some crisis was forcing him to.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Mario didn't realize his hand was bleeding until he tasted something coppery on his tongue. He brought his hand away from his mouth, shocked, realizing that his teeth had drawn blood from clenching down as hard as they did. He touched the bleeding mark in a sort of daze, the physical pain a slight distraction from his current internal distress. But he knew it wouldn't last.

Reality came crashing back down, and Mario bit his hand as hard as he could to mask out the sobs and signs of weakness from the breakdown he was going through. He lost himself for a moment in time. His sobs were hard and violent, his breathing had picked up and 30 years of smoking took a toll on his lungs. He began to cough hard as even more tears leaked out of his eyes.

He couldn't stay sitting in this cold, hard leather chair any longer. Mario got up and started pacing, what he usually did to clear his mind. But usually his pacing was cool, calculated. Now it was just erratic, random, and dizzying.

He moved like a caged animal, cautious and ready to strike, fearful that anyone, especially his wife, would catch him like this.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana had been zoned out for a while now. She was lost in thought and focusing on the Desktop background slide show of the two girls Brittany had on her computer. She wasn't looking at it so much as she was just mindlessly fixed on it. Pictures from high school, college, random parties, and even some of New Directions showed up. She only focused on one, though.

It was the last one they'd ever take together as a Club. Inside the Choir Room, standing around the 1st place trophy they'd won at Nationals, Brittany kissing Santana on the cheek, as her own cheeks blushed bright red from exhilaration.

Santana looked down as she felt Brittany move against her. Brittany's sleeping behavior was always unpredictable. Some nights she'd be a light sleeper, and some nights she'd sink into slumber like a rock. Santana wasn't quite sure what tonight was going to be, so she just lay in bed, pulling Brittany closer to her, tighter against her.

Santana was suddenly brought back to the secret nights they shared, back before anyone knew about them; the nights where Santana was scared of love, yet more terrified of being without Brittany. The nights where she thought that if anyone found out about them, it would be the end of her. Yet, each night, she held on tight as if she was refusing to let the girl she loved unconditionally, and who loved her uncontrollably, leave the bed, and leave her alone.

"Brittany, if you can hear me, I just want to let you know…" she stopped herself. She needed to make sure she was going to say it right, without fear in her voice. She kissed Brittany's head and whispered softly, just out of ear-shot, "We're going back home." Her cheeks became hot, her palms began to sweat, water blurred her eyes and tears slowly began to fall down each side of her face.

Santana leaned over Brittany and turned out the desk lamp. If she was going to cry, she was going to do it in the dark.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

From wall to wall, floor to ceiling, books and family photos covered the walls and surrounded Mario Lopez. He was never a reader. He just liked the illusion that came with that many books in one room, neatly set in specific places to impress anyone who entered. The study, being his domain, felt as if it was something out of the Victorian era. Books, various ship and underwater diving memorabilia, and a few Big Game animal heads surrounded the desk in the middle of the room. It was a bit tacky and predictable of someone like him with that kind of wealth to do, but he still went through with it as if it were his own 'rite of passage' from the man he used to be, to the man he had become.

Even though he had no idea who that man was, now.

The door to his study was gigantic and made of a dark wood. It was unlike any door in the rest of the house. It always firmly closed, and he was the only one with a key to it. Angelica learned not to question this early on in their marriage, and brought Santana up with the idea that it was her father's work space and no place for a young girl to be in.

There was only one glass window in the room. It was located directly behind the desk he sat at. It overlooked the back yard, and in the earlier years of Santana's life, he loved that window. It helped him keep an eye out for her, and he could almost watch her, his only child, grow up as she played on the swing set from year to year. Of course, once she got too old for the swings, it was tag in the backyard, and then the pool, and then sunbathing…

Angelica always used to jump him about not spending the proper amount of time with Santana, but she didn't know everything. He watched his daughter grow up, he kept an eye on her, and he saw her age and mature. He even watched as _she_ grew up with his daughter. He watched _her_ grow up too.

His sobbing had stopped by now and he was controlling his breathing. His throat still tickled with the threat of another cough, but it never came. He took long inhales and deep exhales as he walked back to his desk and opened up his lap top.

Like the constant need to buy furniture, money wasn't a problem for their family. Mario only ever allowed himself and his wife to fly first class, but his wife never had any problem riding coach. He didn't deem himself better than the people less fortunate than he and his family, he just liked the treatment better.

He ordered the tickets from New York to Cleveland and caught himself hovering over the amount of tickets he was going to purchase. Santana was one, and _she_ was one. He needed two. Of course he needed two. He promised Santana _she_ could come too. He clicked the number 2 and ordered the tickets. He waited for confirmation of the purchase before closing his lap top once again.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Even though Brittany's sleeping behavior was unpredictable from night-to-night, her waking up was a routine set to clockwork. She'd wake up with bursts of bright energy and go about her day. She was noisy and walked around their flat as if she were the only one there. True, Santana was practically dead to the world early in the morning. She was still asleep in the spot she designated her own, but still.

Brittany would run the shower and let it warm up without shutting the bathroom door, letting steam slowly escape out into the rest of the apartment.

At first, back when they were just shy teenagers sneaking around, Santana always hated Brittany for this. The noise, the attention it brought, was horrible for her. She was always scared her mother or father would come up to the third floor of the house and catch the two girls. She'd often beg Brittany to wait until her parents were either gone or asleep, but Brittany was Brittany and she refused to do anything without showering after sex.

Eventually Santana caught onto the idea of 'round two' and joined in the showers too, still as fearful as ever of being caught, but for some reason, in the hot shower with Brittany, the world outside wasn't as scary. They'd come a long way from those days. _Santana_ had come a long way since then.

By now the bathroom mirror was fogged over, the microwave was beeping, and Brittany was turning on the docking station where her iPod was. Their home was alive with sound, sound that was slowly beginning to wake up Santana.

She groaned as she was slowly brought in to consciousness. She heard the sounds coming from the other rooms, heard Brittany's footsteps and heard the shower turn off. Next she begin to feel. She felt the cool, silk black sheets on her finger tips, the feather pillow against her head, the sun's warmth coming through the window. Suddenly her legs and arms came to life and a stretch she hadn't planned took over her body, sprawling her across the bed, her calf touching the cooler, empty spot Brittany had vacated. She let out a soft groan and opened her eyes, slowly allowing them to adjust.

"Hey." Brittany's voice cheerfully called from the kitchen. Santana sat up, rubbing her temples to ease the headache she'd given herself from crying the previous night.

"Hey." she softly replied with a forced smile that Brittany couldn't see. The phone conversation from hours earlier was quickly coming back to her. Santana finally pulled herself out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen and caught sight of Brittany bent over her plate, shoveling food into her mouth and reading the newspaper. Brittany went on eating whatever it was she had cooked, not realizing Santana was there. It smelled like pancakes, but Santana wasn't sure.

In the three years the two girls had been together, they'd become extraordinarily comfortable with one another. They could sit in silence and neither would be scared they did something wrong. Brittany was particularly good at this, and even caught onto it early in their relationship. She knew that at times Santana needed her space, especially in the beginning, before she came out - before they started dating. She never let Santana stray away, but she often loosened the slack from time-to-time; in time Santana learned to do the same thing for Brittany.

Brittany finished her food and slipped into the bedroom to dry her hair and change out of her pajamas. As she passed Santana, she kissed her softly on the cheek.

When Brittany entered the bedroom, she didn't even bother to shut the door. Music began to play, and Santana heard Brittany rummaging around in their closet.

Santana sat down at the kitchen table and thought about the phone call she'd had. She played it over and over in her head, listening to each hurt word of a man who'd become a stranger to her. She had no idea how to tell Brittany they were making a trip back to Lima. She had no idea how she was going to tell Brittany she talked to the one man in her life that verbally assaulted her with the worst words anyone could utter. She had no idea how she'd even convince Brittany to go. She just didn't know anything right now, other than the fact that she needed Brittany more than ever.

Santana got up from the table and walked in a dream-like state to their shared bedroom. She opened the door and closed it softly behind her, without a word. She stepped up behind Brittany, who was now dressed in only her underwear and looking for an outfit. She didn't scare her; catch her off guard, or anything. Brittany only let out a sigh and pleasurable smile at the touch of Santana's hands slowly gripping at her waist. This didn't faze her from contemplating her outfit.

Santana pulled her in closer and let the silence cover both of them. She rested a defeated head on Brittany's shoulder and let out a cool sigh, noticing Brittany's neck erupted in to goose bumps where she breathed. They stood in silence a bit more, Santana's arms now wrapped around Brittany's stomach and she pulling them closer. Brittany realized what Santana was doing and stopped looking for a dress. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Santana's and slowly started to rock back and forth, the soft swaying calming her tense girlfriend.

She felt Santana's lips kiss her shoulder and make their way up to her neck. Brittany just stood there rocking back and forth with a soft smile on her lips, her eyes closed.

Santana stopped kissing her and rested her head back on Brittany's bare shoulder.

"I love you." She whispered, still exhausted from last night's emotions.

Brittany smiled with her head tilted up and to the side, still rocking slowly from side-to-side. "I love you too."

It was quiet in the room, so quiet, and though Santana had never been bothered by it before, right now it seemed unbearable.

With that thought, Santana felt it all coming back to her. The tears and the stinging pain they always bring rushed back to her in full force. She buried her forehead into Brittany's body and let it all go.

"I need to tell you something." She managed to say through quiet sobs, squeezing Brittany tighter into her warm body, her chest pressed into Brittany's back.

Though it was irrational, Santana was squeezing Brittany to hold her here. Santana was afraid her girlfriend would leave after she told her. Brittany's rocking had slowed down a bit, but she didn't stop moving.

"Anything, San." Her voice was calm and expecting. Though how she could possibly be expecting this, Santana didn't know, and didn't care to try and find out.

Santana gently bit into Brittany's neck, but her teeth didn't even leave a mark, and Brittany didn't flinch from it.

Santana felt a sudden burst of honesty come from within her and she's blunt. "I got a phone call, on your phone last night."

"Oh?" Brittany questioned, but still left room for Santana to finish.

"Yeah." Santana lets out along with another deep breath.

"And? Who was it?"

"My…" Santana pulls Brittany closer; she's practically entwined with her now, legs between one another and their chests moving in sync, their breathing matching perfectly.

"My dad called last night, Brittany."

Brittany's eyes shot open and she broke from Santana's embrace. She turned around and looked at Santana, noticing the hurt she had been hiding as Brittany was facing away. "Santana, what?"

Her voice was soft, close. Santana just looked at her and nodded before breaking into tears once more. Brittany pulled her close, putting Santana's face into her neck, letting her cry. "What'd he have to say? Why'd he call?" Her questions came out one after the other, but she was in no hurry to get the answers.

Santana's voice was weak, her words were trembling as she spoke them into Brittany's neck. "He just said I needed to come home." She kissed Brittany's skin softly.

Brittany, finally getting her head back on, led both of them over to the bed, forcing Santana to sit before asking, "Did he say why?"

"No, just that I needed to come home as soon as possible". She buried herself back in Brittany's tight embrace, too afraid of the different emotions she might see on her girlfriend's face.

They sat in silence. Brittany had, by now, been hugging her tightly for a fair bit of time, combing her fingers through Santana's black hair.

"He said he wanted you to come back, too."

Brittany pulled away from Santana and sat completely still, unsure how she was supposed to react, unsure of how to react at all, really.

"What do you mean he wants me to come back with you?" Her questioning was gentle, but as she brought up Santana's father, the one man her girlfriend refused to talk about, a certain hiss in her voice let Santana know that she was upset.

Santana's lip began to quiver as she looked around the small room they sat in together, the room she called her home. She knew she had to answer Brittany, she knew she had to be honest, but she herself didn't know what he meant by Brittany needing to be back with her, too.

"I don't know, Brittany." Her voice was almost drowned out by their joint breathing. "All he said was that I was going to need you there with me…" her voice trailed off into worry. Brittany's face expressed Santana's hidden fears.

"Is everything okay, San?" She asks softly.

"I don't know. He just said we needed to come back, the sooner the better. He said he's flying us out there today…"

"Are you gonna go, San?"

"I mean, with the way he sounded…and calling like that? We know how he is, Brittany, we know this has to mean something. I think I should go."

"But it's been three years, Santana. We haven't spoken to him since…you know." Brittany said, taking her girlfriend's hand as the painful memories flooded back to them.

"I know, but…I just can't shake it, this horrible feeling. What if it's my mom?" Santana hated herself immediately for saying it, and she began to tremble in an uneasy sadness, as the thought of it actually being about her mother filled her head.

"We don't know what it is yet, San. We can't get too worried right now, so don't think that. She's a healthy woman. I mean heck, she raised you, right?" Brittany's smile melts Santana every time, and this reassuring smile is no exception.

Brittany extended her right hand with another small smile and waited patiently for Santana to grab onto it. Santana gripped it and felt the strong tug from Brittany, and she finds herself brought in to Brittany's half-naked embrace.

"It'll be okay, Santana. I promise you". Brittany breathed into Santana's neck, beginning to kiss it softly.

"I love you." She softly repeats between kisses and the occasional biting of Santana's earlobe. "And I'll go with you." She sneaks in, just loud enough for Santana to catch.

Santana sighed deeply as Brittany spoke into her ear. She pulled away from the blonde for a second, before coming back to her, face-to-face, and putting her forehead against Brittany's. Santana kissed her softly and slowly, feeling Brittany's arms pull her in between her longer legs, so that both girls could get the full pleasure of the slow kisses.

"Look at me, San." Brittany interrupts lovingly.

Santana looks to Brittany with a semi-forced smile on her face, hands still clenched.

"I love you, Santana, and we can do this. We'll go back to Lima and everything will be okay. Think of it as a class reunion. But, you know, without really seeing anyone, or even going back to McKinley." Brittany's voice is laced with all the familiar traces of her trademark humor, and a small smirk is all Santana needs to see for her smile to beam brightly and a small, rather embarrassing snort to come from her nose.

"Yeah, we can do this." Santana said as she stepped a bit closer to Brittany. "But first, I want to do something else…" she said, biting her bottom lip softly.

Brittany looks at her with a confused innocence.

"Well… who knows how long we're going to be back in Lima? It could be two weeks, it could be two hours. And while we're with my family, I doubt we can be very affectionate…"

"So you want to…?" Brittany asked, with a smirk on her face, tracing her finger up her girlfriend's thigh.

Santana smiled, and brought her hand down to Brittany's to lace their fingers together, stopping their upward path. Brittany pouted.

"Britt, you have no idea how much I want you. But before we pack, and have to face my asshole family… can you just hold me for a little while?"

Brittany smiled softly and nodded. And so, still clad in only her underwear, Brittany slid back onto their bed, with Santana crawling up next to her. Santana put her head on Brittany's chest, wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's waist, and inhaled deeply.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Mario Lopez checked his email. He saw the new message containing the confirmation for the airline tickets. He sighed, before clicking the 'Forward' button, and sending them to both his daughter and her… _friend_. He couldn't even bring himself to think the word 'girlfriend'.

Mario shuddered as he thought back to Santana's teenage years. How many times had the two girls run past him, giggling, before slamming his daughter's bedroom door shut? How many times had they emerged the next morning, looking exhausted but elated? How often had he seen his daughter and the other girl link pinkies before facing some unknown challenge? How many times must they have had sex in his house, with him and his wife there, or even with them absent? He did not like to think about it.

Mario thought back to a saying his mother often said to him as a child. _The sin isn't in the act; it's in the scandal once the act is spoken out loud._ But would he have been happier if Santana had never told them? Certainly they'd still be a family, but would they be _happy_?

As much as he despised the thought of his daughter's… _recreational activities_... he couldn't deny how miserable she had been those last few months before she told them. She was bitter, and always on edge. Afterwards… well, he couldn't exactly judge the afterwards part. He had no idea what his daughter was like now. He didn't know what she looked like, sounded like, dressed like…

Mario sighed. No, Santana would not be happy if she hadn't told him and his wife. But was she happy now? He prayed to God that was the case. Otherwise, their family had been destroyed for nothing.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana's laptop lit up and emitted a small 'ping!' signaling that Santana had a new email. She sighed in to Brittany's neck and kissed her lightly before standing up to look at the message. Usually she would just leave it, but today she was expecting something from her father.

Sure enough, upon opening the email, there was a new message from her Papi. She clicked it open. Brittany sat up in bed behind her, her long hair mussed up, and tousled every which way. Santana smiled at the adorable sight, before returning her gaze to the more pressing issue.

There were no words in the message, just a simple attachment. Upon further inspection, Santana found that it was their flight confirmation. She almost rolled her eyes when she saw that they were first-class seats. Santana hadn't flown anywhere first-class since the last vacation she took with her family during Spring Break, 3 years ago. But her father would settle for no less, even for the daughter who had disgraced him.

Santana sighed. She checked the ticket time, and then looked at the clock on her and Brittany's bedside table. If they started packing now, they could take their time about it and still make it to the airport with plenty of time to spare. And Santana was nervous. Whenever she was nervous, she needed to be doing something, moving somewhere, or she drove herself crazy. She figured it was best that they start packing and get everything ready now.

"Come on Britt, we have to get ready." Santana said quietly, and unnecessarily. Brittany had read the message behind her girlfriend's shoulder, and knew that Santana would want to start immediately. She was already dressed by the time Santana turned around.

"Tell your dad we'll be in Lima by noon." Brittany said quietly, pulling their joint suitcase down from the closet.

Santana's eyes welled with tears at her girlfriend's thoughtfulness. She couldn't resist striding over to Brittany, grabbing her forcefully, and spinning her around, pressing her back in to the closet door. She kissed Brittany full on the mouth, putting as much force behind it without hurting her girlfriend as she could. Brittany's breath hitched, but she kissed Santana back with just as much force.

"I love you Brittany." Santana whispered when they had pulled away. "I love you so much."

"I love you too. Now come on, get your stuff together. We need to be at the airport in an hour."

Santana nodded and hurried back over to her laptop. She hit 'Reply' on the email to her father.

_We'll land at twelve. Pick us up at the airport?_

She wasn't expecting him to arrive. Yeah, it would definitely be helpful, and far cheaper, for her father to pick them up rather than renting a car or getting a cab, but it was unlikely. Her father may have called her, but she didn't know how he'd react to seeing her again after all this time. She didn't know how _she'd_ react to their inevitable reunion. But it was worth a shot, if her father showed up… then the awkwardness would get done with that much sooner. If not… well, now she had something else to be bitter towards him about. Not that she needed anything else, that is.

She hit the 'Send' button before shutting her laptop, placing it in the suitcase, and starting to pile in clothes. She didn't know how long she would be there, but she figured she could always wear Britt's clothes, if push came to shove. And her parents had a laundry machine. So she should be fine.

Santana and Brittany bustled about the apartment, gathering as many things as they could, unaware that in Santana's inbox, it read '1 New Message'.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Mario looked up as his email account refreshed, spotting the new message from his daughter. He was hesitant to open it. He was so sure it would be a message saying that Santana had changed her mind; that she wasn't coming back, not without a good reason.

When he read the short message, his heart skipped. He couldn't believe it. She was coming back. She was jumping back into their family life without so much as an explanation. His heart clenched in guilt. She still trusted him. After all the horrible things he did and said to her… she still trusted him enough to come home, where she may very well face more slander and ridicule.

He sighed, before typing out a short reply.

_I'll be there._

He hit 'Send', hoping against hope that this wasn't the biggest mistake he had ever made with his daughter. _Well…_ he thought as the memory of his daughter's tear-soaked face as he screamed at her flashed to the front of his mind, _second biggest mistake._

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

The airplane was quiet. It was almost too quiet. Santana could feel her chest contracting, and she was almost certain that she was having a panic attack. _Do those make it impossible for you to breathe?_ She thought, still thousands of feet in the air. Santana's hands clenched on the armrest, her heart rate rapidly increasing as the Captain announced that they were making their descent.

Every second that went by was bringing her closer and closer to her estranged family, the people that had rejected her at her most vulnerable time. She couldn't help but feel that this was all a huge mistake.

Santana jumped when she felt something slide down her right hand. She looked down at it, and saw Brittany's left hand slowly moving up and down the back of her own, up to her arm, and then back down again.

Against her will, Santana felt her body relaxing, and her hand unclenching under Brittany's soft fingers. Santana flipped her hand palm-up, gripping Brittany's tightly. She took a deep breath and felt herself relax even more.

Brittany smiled at her. "How are you?" She asked softly, looking around the plane to make sure she wasn't disturbing anyone.

Santana nodded. "I'm doing great." She said, unconvincingly. Brittany shot her a look. Santana sighed deeply again. "I'm shit, Brittany. I can't stop feeling like this is all going to go to hell. I mean, Christ, I haven't even _spoken_ to the man in three years, and now I'm going to s_ee_ him, as in face to face. I don't know if I can do it, Britt."

"Of course you can." Brittany scoffed. "And do you want to know why?"

Santana nodded.

"Because _you_ are Santana freaking Lopez. You take crap from no one, and you always fight for whatever you want. And you know what? You always _win_."

Santana smiled, but shook her head. "I know I can do it Britt, but that's not why."

"Well, why then?" Brittany asked sweetly.

Santana brought their interlocked hands up to her mouth and kissed the back of Brittany's. "Because I have you. It's as simple as that."

Brittany smiled and bent across the seat to kiss her, softly and chastely.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Mario Lopez stood outside of security, twisting his hands together. He was early; he knew he was early. He didn't mean to be, but he couldn't sit at home any longer staring at the clock.

He was anxious. No, that wasn't it. He was _terrified_ to see his daughter again after so long. What would she look like? No doubt she had embraced her new… _identity_… and was sporting a short haircut, wearing army boots and lots of plaid. Who knew how _she_ would look, either. The girl that had torn his family apart… Mario was still bitter about it. If they had never moved to Lima, if they had gone to Santa Fe instead, like Angelica had wanted, then his daughter would never have met _her_, and she would be living a normal life, dating a nice boy.

Mario shook himself. He couldn't be thinking things like that. _She_ came with Santana, a packaged deal; that much had always been relevant. If he wanted his daughter home… if his wife wanted his daughter home… he was going to have to deal with _her_, and that meant no bitterness, no insults. He couldn't push _her_ away, because that would drive Santana away faster than anything else in the world.

Mario glanced at the clock. _Eight minutes_, he thought to himself. He gulped and had to force himself not to start pacing. That wouldn't look good. He shouldn't show her how nervous he was to see her again.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana gripped Brittany's hand tightly as they approached the security exit. She had Brittany gripped in her right hand, and their suitcase in her left. He purse was thrown over her shoulder, but Santana couldn't feel any of it. She was numb.

"Hey." Brittany stopped her right before they got within sight of the outside terminal. "I love you, Santana Lopez. Now breathe. No matter what, you have me, you will _always_ have me, and I'll always have you. It doesn't matter what happens out there, or what he has to say, because _I love you_. Nothing can change that. No amount of hate, or prejudice, or rejection can change what I feel for you, and what you know about yourself. You are who you are, and you accept yourself for it. And that is one of the main reasons I'm so in love with you."

Santana nodded, and Brittany reached up with her free hand to wipe at the few tears leaking out of Santana's eyes. Santana sniffled and took a deep breath, before straightening her back, lifting her chin high, and kissing Brittany once, for luck. She walked out of the security area proud, holding the girl she loved.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

When she saw her father, her breath hitched. He hadn't seen them yet. He was looking down at his fingers, twisting them nervously and biting his lip. So he was just as anxious about this exchange as she was.

He looked older than he had three years ago; as if he had aged 10 in the time they were apart. His hair was thinning, and the wrinkles were more prominent around his face. His laughter lines were almost gone, replaced by definite frown lines. Time had not been so kind to Mario Lopez. She hoped she hadn't been the cause of that.

But besides that, he looked very much the same. His hands were rough, as if he had done years of physical labor rather than spend his whole life sitting behind a desk. His clothes were neat, sharp, and elegant. Not wealthy to the point of obscenity, but no one could look at him and think that he wasn't well-off. His shoes were still the same. As far back as Santana could remember he had always worn the same kind of shoe.

Without warning, her father's head shot up, and his eyes met hers. His eyes were different too, Santana managed to notice. They had no cold glint behind them like she remembered. They showed sadness, and guilt, and a terrible loss. Santana stood, frozen to the spot, clinging tightly to Brittany, as she kept eye contact with the man she once loved.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Of course she looked the same. He had thought she would have altered completely in three years, but nothing about her had changed. She looked exactly the same as she had when she was eighteen.

Her hair was long, and it was brushed smoothly. It hung around her face, the black hair bringing out her dark eyes beautifully. He had forgotten how beautifully innocent his daughter could look.

Her clothes were nice. She had grown up fashion-wise since her high school days, but she was still the same Santana. Her green dress was still form-fitting, but not as obscene as some of her old outfits, he remembered, somewhat fondly. She had on nice shoes, too. She was doing well for herself, he could tell.

The next thing he noticed was her hand in the blonde's. His eyes briefly flashed to the other girl, unable to stop himself from seeing how she had changed. She had changed even less than his daughter.

She still glowed. He always remembered that about her; the fact that she seemed to radiate some kind of energy. It was obvious his daughter saw the same thing. _She _had not changed a single bit of herself. She still dressed eccentrically, but she pulled it off. He remembered Santana joking about how _she_ could wear anything and still look good.

Neither girl was smiling. He wasn't exactly expecting them to be. But he couldn't help but notice how they looked together. His daughter was obviously clutching the other girl's hand feverishly, looking for support. She was getting it. Santana leaned slightly in to her, seeking a comfort that he used to provide her with, the comfort of someone holding you while you were completely terrified. He felt sick to think he was scaring his daughter.

But if he thought about it, it wasn't _him_ that was scaring her, but the situation.

Finally, after only a few seconds, but what felt like an eternity, his eyes met his daughter's. Her brown eyes were shinning brighter than he had ever seen them. A quick, imperceptible glance at the blonde showed him the same thing.

His heart dropped.

She was happy. Indescribably, bubbly, laugh-out-loud, head-over-heels happy, and it was all with _her_. He couldn't believe it, but at the same time, he was so thankful. So they hadn't lost each other in vain. It had all had a purpose. His daughter was happier than he had ever seen her, and it was all without him or his wife. Maybe the blonde was good for her after all…

He almost shook himself to erase those thoughts. He couldn't change his whole life with just one look at his daughter. He still felt the way he felt about gay marriage and lifestyles… but… maybe Santana's relationship wasn't the same as all the others. Maybe hers wasn't a sin.

This time, he did shake himself. Mario walked slowly towards the girl he hadn't spoken to in years, and he stopped right in front of her. She continued to look into his eyes, and he found that he couldn't look away, either.

"Papi…" She whispered, and he broke. He dove in, and before she could even blink, he had swept Santana up in a hug so tight, she was sure her ribs were being crushed.

His strong arms gripped at her, lifting her into the air, completely off the ground, and swinging her around. And at that moment, Santana was sixteen again, getting hugged tightly by the father that loved her. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent and clutching at his back.

Mario was crying shamelessly. He never let anyone see him weak and emotional like this… but this wasn't just anyone. This was his daughter, his baby girl that he hadn't seen in three years.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Mario put Santana down again, and the illusion was broken. Their heart-felt welcome could not be followed by words, because neither was good enough with emotion or feeling to communicate anything they wanted to say.

He knew it was over. He knew it was back to her being his twenty-one year old daughter, who was living a life he did not approve of and did not participate in. He was back to being the father that had pushed her aside, refused to acknowledge her, and had severed all forms of communication. They were not a family anymore.

No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't swallow his pride and say that he missed her, that he was so, so sorry about what he said, what he did. He couldn't do it, and he hated himself for it.

Once they broke all physical contact, she was no longer the baby girl that had missed her father. She had lapsed briefly, forgetting all the pain and hurt, and giving way to relief. But it was back. She remembered that he was not the same man that had raised her. He was not the father that would love her forever, unconditionally, because he did _not_ love her. And if he did, he had a funny way of showing it.

Mario was the first one to break eye contact. He turned away from his daughter, too ashamed of the pain he saw in her eyes. She understood that they weren't back to normal after the hug. She knew they could never be the same as they were before. And it killed her as much as it was killing him.

He turned his gaze to the girl next to his daughter, who was currently hugging herself to stop from sweeping Santana into a comforting embrace. He knew she wanted to. He could see her fingers practically itching to be around Santana, but she wasn't allowing herself to comfort the girl. He didn't understand why.

And then it struck him. They were being careful. They weren't being as affectionate as they wanted, because they knew he did not approve. He didn't know if it was because they were respecting him, or if they were afraid of him. _Probably the latter,_ he thought bitterly.

"Hello, Mr. Lopez." The girl said softly. Her voice sounded soft and sweet, and suddenly, in a rush, he remembered her laughter as she sat at their dinner table with them, chuckling as Santana would smile at her, telling her stories of her baby cousins, her math teacher, something Sue had said, anything. She used to be a part of the Lopez family, too. Just as suddenly as that memory hit him, another one knocked it out of the way.

He remembered her pleading, sobbing, begging him not to say that stuff about his daughter.

"_No, Mr. Lopez. Don't do that, please. You don't mean it. I'll leave. I'll go, I'll leave forever. Just don't make Santana leave."_ _She sobbed, standing between his furious body and his daughter's cowering one_._ His wife was crying softly in the background, too afraid to say anything._

_Santana was fierce, adamant, and terrified._ _"You can't leave me Britt, not like this. I can't live without you. Please, I love you too much. You're my family, Britt. You can't leave."_

And she hadn't. Brittany Susan Pierce had not left his daughter's side once in three years, but of course, he had no way of knowing that.

He managed to get out a strained, "Hello." He still couldn't say her name. It had slipped out last night in conversation with his daughter, but it was still a painful idea for him. He was a coward. He couldn't even meet the gaze of the girl his daughter was in love with. He disgusted himself.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

The car ride back to the house, though brief, was terribly awkward. No one knew what to say. Santana wished for Brittany's quick-witted humor and soft smile. But Brittany didn't dare say anything. She recognized the moment between father and daughter in the airport, and she also understood why it had ended. She couldn't say anything, because for the first time in her life, she did not know what to say to make both people happy, and forget about their argument.

She used to be able to do this with ease. She could keep the peace between Mr. Lopez and his hot-tempered teenage daughter without even batting an eye. The Lopez family loved her for that. She knew that now, speaking would probably make things worse.

Besides the greeting at the airport, Mr. Lopez had yet to acknowledge that she was there. She wasn't hurt by it, though. She was here for Santana and Santana alone. She did not need anyone's approval. Her girlfriend was not so lucky.

Santana was hurt that her father hadn't said anything to Brittany. She was in love with the girl, for Christ's sake, what else did he need? She supposed it was better than saying something offensive. She knew that the second her father said something bad about Brittany, she would have jumped out of the car, grabbed Brittany, and walked back to the airport and gotten on the first plane out of Lima.

But she also knew that Brittany would not let her do something like that. Brittany would not let her make an irrational decision so quickly. She would just shrug it off, smile sweetly, and tell Santana quietly that her family was more important.

But her family wasn't more important, not anymore. Brittany _was_ her family. Brittany was the most important thing in her life now, and had been for over three years. The relationship she had with her family was broken, and unfixable. Salvageable, yes, but it could never be fixed. Not after the things her father said about her… about Brittany.

Santana wanted to say something, anything that would make her feel less awkward sitting in this small car in the backseat, furtively clasping hands with her girlfriend. "Why did you ask me to come home, Papi?" She finally asked.

She saw his hands tighten their grip on the steering wheel. "I think we should wait to discuss this until we get home. Just two more minutes."

Santana nodded. The next two minutes were the longest of her life.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

When they pulled in to Santana's driveway, she had never felt more relieved. She thought coming back to this town, this street, this house, would make her uncomfortable. But in fact, it just made her miss it. She never thought she would miss Lima.

She got out of the car slowly, taking in her family home. She sighed. So many memories filled this place. She remembered how she would sit on her roof during the summer, she remembered Brittany sneaking in through her window in the early days of their relationship, the family dinners, Christmas with her cousins and her abuela, days with her family.

Boy, this day was bumming her out.

Her father led the way towards the house nervously. She could tell by his hurried, shuffling footsteps that he was just one ill-placed sentence away from freaking out. That didn't stop her from linking her fingers through Brittany's.

Santana poked her head through the door, taking in the smells of her house. It smelled the same. She didn't like that. It felt like the house was mocking her, telling her that nothing had changed in all her years of growing up. That wasn't true of course, everything had changed. But nothing about this place was different. Time was frozen inside the Lopez house.

Santana looked around for any sign of her mother. In all this excitement, she had almost forgotten about her. Santana wanted to see her mother. She wanted to hug the woman, no matter how they parted.

Santana could never forgive her mother, not completely. Though she had never yelled at Santana for her lifestyle, she had never stood up for her, either. The night Santana's family was torn apart, her mother sat at the dinner table, crying almost as hard as Santana herself. And in three years, the woman had never once attempted to contact her.

Her mother had walked away from her that night, and to Santana, it hurt almost as much as her father's harsh words.

She had never been close with her mother, and she didn't harbor any delusions about their relationship, but she still wanted to see her. She never had a good relationship with her slightly overbearing, strict mother, but she was her mom. You can't pick your family.

She wouldn't forgive them, though; either of them. "Papi, where's Mami?"

Mario sat down in his favorite leather armchair slowly, groaning as his joints creaked. He was getting old, and every day was a reminder of that. "Santana, mija, I think you need to sit down."

Santana's heart sank past her stomach. She led Brittany slowly into the family room. With every step, her heart beat a little faster, and she got a little bit more terrified.

The girls sat on the couch at the same time, their joint attention focused on Mr. Lopez. He took a deep breath, but never released it.

"Papi, please, por favor, tell me."

Mario released his breath. "That's why I asked you to come home, Santana. It's… it's about your mother." Santana's heart, if it was possible, dropped even lower. "She's… I'm afraid she's sick."

There was silence for a few moments, but it felt like an eternity to the three people in the room.

"How sick is sick?" Brittany asked in a whisper.

Mario kept his gaze on his daughter while he answered, "Ovarian cancer. Not terminal, but… not good Santana, not good at all."

Santana's breath hitched, she choked, and then she sobbed. She broke down and fell against Brittany, no longer caring if her father didn't approve. Brittany held her tightly, her own tears washing down her face as she held her girlfriend tightly.

They didn't know how long they sat there. Brittany didn't move or loosen her grip until Santana had cried so much, that she literally couldn't get any more tears out. She fell asleep on Brittany's lap, who continued to stroke her hair, as her own eyes overflowed quietly.

Mario sat there watching his daughter lose her mind, and was brought back to his reaction when he had found out. Despite how strained their relationship had become over the past three years, he loved his wife more than anything. He could hardly bear the thought of losing her, any of her, to illness.

Finally, once he was sure Santana was asleep he stood up from his chair. "I'll just…" He muttered awkwardly, gesturing out of the room.

"Mr. Lopez." Brittany called softly as he was leaving. He turned back to look at her. "Thank you for telling her in person. I know it wasn't easy for either of you. But this… this made a lot of difference to her."

He nodded, not quite sure how to answer her.

She seemed to sense this. "I know I'm not your favorite person in the world," they both chuckled darkly at this, "but I hope you won't take it out on Santana. I love her, Mr. Lopez, more than anything. But you love her, too. I can't stop her from leaving every time, so you need to watch what you say about her… about me."

He stiffened. "Are you threatening me?" He growled.

Brittany shook her head. "I'm _warning_ you. If you say something bad, if you hurt her, she'll leave. I can try to stop her, Mr. Lopez, because I know how important it is for her to be here, speaking to her family. But I can't always stop her from leaving. I'm sorry; it's the most I can do. I know you may think I'm intruding…"

"You are." He said curtly, before turning on his heel and storming from the room.

Brittany sighed. "You're still like a second father to me, Mario." She whispered. "I want to fix this relationship as much as you. I just want to help you mend your family. Lord knows you're going to need it." He did not hear her. She didn't know whether or not she wanted him to.

Brittany leaned down and kissed Santana on the forehead softly. "I love you Santana." She breathed against her girlfriend's hair. Santana shifted slightly in her sleep.

Brittany took the opportunity to slide down the couch and situate Santana so that she was laying on top of her slightly, cradled against the taller girl's body. Brittany was soon asleep.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Angelica Lopez had four days left with her family, before she was going in to the hospital for full-time care. She would have to be in the hospital for six days, and then recovery for four months. Four months was not a lot of time in some instances, but when you are getting over an illness, it can be an eternity. And every day that passed had her thinking that she was just wasting her time. This cancer business made her realize how short life was. She should be traveling to Paris, and skydiving… and making amends with her daughter.

She sighed as she approached her house in the car. Ever since that night three years ago, their family had never been the same. The house was too big for just her and her husband, and she missed her daughter's voice. She missed the melodic ring it could have, and the raspy sound when she sang, and her laugh, and her smile, and _her_. She missed Santana so much that it hurt every day.

She also missed Brittany. That tall blonde made her day every time she saw her, which, as Santana and Brittany got older, also increased. Angelica could count on seeing the bubbly blonde at least once a day, unless Santana was over at the Pierce's.

Angelica Lopez was many things, but she was not an idiot. She knew the nature of Brittany and her daughter's relationship, probably before the girls themselves did. She first noticed it when they were twelve years old, and playing outside by her pool. Brittany was more comfortable than Santana, and more aware of her feelings. It had always been that way.

At first, she was shocked, and a little bit put-off once she realized that the two girls had romantic feelings for each other. But they were still young. They would probably grow out of it, she told herself. There was no need to tell Mario about it.

So she hadn't mentioned it. Not even when the girls started acting on these feelings. At first, it was just kissing. She thought it was fine; two girls experimenting with each other didn't matter to her. They could do as they pleased.

Santana never knew that she knew. The girls were not as subtle as they liked to think.

Finally, Angelica realized that she had no problem with what her daughter was slowly coming to realize: that she was gay. She thought she should be angry, or frustrated, or sad, but in actuality, she was just relieved that Santana and Brittany had finally figured it out themselves.

She knew the first day they had sex. She wasn't at home, but when she did get home that night for dinner, the girls were sitting on the couch watching a movie. And the look on Brittany's face as she held her daughter… she knew that face. That was the face of love. Santana, on the other hand, looked completely content. Later, that contentment would turn into fear, and eventually anger, but she outgrew those, too.

Angelica knew that they had had sex. She knew that they had sex all the time. Like she said before, the girls were not as subtle as they thought. She was forever thankful about how deep of a sleeper her husband was. She actually purchased a set of ear plugs, and on nights when Brittany and Santana would have 'sleepovers' at their house, she would furtively slip them into her husband's ears after he had fallen asleep. And Santana never knew.

God, how could that girl think that at least one of her parents didn't know? Even though their house was big, it was not nearly big enough for _that._ Santana was _not_ quiet, but either way, Brittany certainly screamed enough for the both of them.

She always wondered how Santana justified the relationship to herself. Santana was certainly not emotionally capable of dealing with feelings as great as those she felt for Brittany. She probably told herself that it was 'just sex', or that she felt so comfortable because Brittany was her best friend. That girl was an idiot sometimes.

Angelica knew when their relationship turned from 'just sex', into something more. They would have 'sleepovers', and instead of the sounds she was used to hearing come from Santana's bedroom when Brittany was over, she heard whispers. She couldn't stop grinning that first night. Her daughter was learning how to have conversations instead of sex. Maybe there was hope for this relationship after all.

Of course they still had sex, and lots of it. But it was different (Angelica shuddered to think of how much she knew about her daughter's sex life). The sex lasted longer, the closer and closer they got to a relationship, and the talks at night lasted longer and longer. And Angelica, despite having to listen to her daughter have sex almost every night, had never been happier for the girl.

She knew when they 'broke up'. She doesn't consider it a real breakup, because they were never really together. She knows that that was Santana's fault, as well.

Her daughter was miserable for months. She barely ate, she barely slept, and the house was deathly quiet at night.

Sometimes she could hear her daughter mumbling to herself, things like, "Damn wheelchair", and "Stupid boy", and "Stupid Santana".

Angelica knew when they got back together. She made an excuse with her husband to get them out of the house for a few days. Santana thought she was just incredibly lucky, that this 'excursion' of her parents' had landed on the same day she and Brittany got back together. She had a lot more to be thankful for, and she didn't even know it.

Angelica missed her daughter. She missed Brittany. She missed the talking, the dinners, the laughing; hell, she'd even take the _sex_ if it meant getting both girls home again. She should talk to them. She should have talked to them sooner, but now, especially in this time of emotional distress, she needed to make amends with her daughter.

So Angelica set her jaw as she entered the house, determined to call her daughter the second she got inside. Turns out, she didn't need to.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, and I don't make any money off of these stories.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N****: **_**THIS IS NOT MY ORIGINAL STORY!**_** The ideas, as well as the first few sections, come from the author **1964-2010**. I adopted the story, edited it, and added onto it **_**WITH THE AUTHOR'S PERMISSION.**_

**If you want to read that story, (just a heads up, it's incomplete), it can be found here:**

**.net/s/7424796/1/A_Matter_of_Miserable_Time**

**Thank you so much to the wonderful **1964-2010** for allowing me to take this incredible story and make it my own. You deserve all the credit for this amazing story idea, though most of the words are my own. Thank you and enjoy!**

A Matter of Miserable Time

Santana was asleep on a very familiar surface. She snuggled closer to Brittany, who was acting as her pillow, barely awake. She let herself forget, for the moment, her mother's illness, and her father's constant disapproval. For a few moments, it was just her and Brittany again.

But, like all dreams, you have to wake up eventually.

"Santana?"

Her eyes shot open, looking around for the very familiar, yet almost forgotten, voice. Santana picked her head off of Brittany's chest to see her mother standing in the doorway, purse dangling in her left hand, car keys on the ground, and mouth open.

"Mami." Santana whispered. This woke Brittany, who yawned and blinked her eyes open, waking with a smile on her face as she looked at Santana. But once she saw Santana's face, her smile slipped off of her face.

"San?" She asked, before seeing that Santana was looking at something. Brittany turned around, and caught sight of Angelica in the doorway.

Santana launched herself off of Brittany and almost tackled her mother in a tight hug. Both women were crying.

"Oh Santana, oh I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. I missed you, mija, I missed you so much." Angelica cried into her daughter's shoulder.

Santana couldn't even speak. She just held her mother tightly, unable to miss the fact that her mother was thinner than she used to be, and felt frail.

Finally the two women pulled away, smiling at each other. Angelica looked over her daughter's shoulder to see Brittany standing next to the couch awkwardly. She laughed. "Brittany Susan Pierce, if you don't hug me in the next five seconds, I will never speak to you again. Get over here."

Brittany had a shocked expression on her face for a few seconds, before it broke into a huge grin, and she hugged Angelica almost as tightly as Santana.

Mrs. Lopez held the slightly taller girl closely.

"I missed you, Angelica."

"I missed you too, sweetie." She whispered in Brittany's ear. They broke apart soon, and all three women had to wipe tears from their eyes.

"What are you two doing back here? It's been so long… too long, and that's partially my fault. Oh girls, I am so sorry that I didn't call…"

"Shhh, Mami. It doesn't matter right now. Papi called us. Well… he called me, and told me that I had to come home right away. And he said that I could bring Britt, because I would need her. And then we got here, and he told us… oh Mami, I can't believe it."

"Santana, you are far too worried about this. The doctor says that I will almost certainly be fine."

"But that's not 100% Mami. What's the risk to this?"

"Well, they caught it early, which is very good. And I have one of the best cancer doctors in the Midwest…"

"Mom." Santana said sharply.

Angelica sighed. "Well, there's risk to the surgery, obviously. And the cancer can have spread through my blood to other areas, we're not sure, so… I won't be able to have children again, but that wasn't really an issue for us anyways. And, they'll probably have to give me chemotherapy, so I'll lose my hair, and get sick, and weak, and be at risk for many diseases."

"But you won't die?"

Angelica shook her head. "It is almost impossible for me to die from this."

"Oh thank God." Santana embraced her mother. Brittany smiled, completely relieved.

"I'm sorry you two came all the way out here."

"Are you kidding? Of course we came out here. This is a family crisis."

"It's hardly a crisis…"

"Mami."

There was a short pause. "Thank you Santana, Brittany. Thank you for being here. You don't know how guilty I've felt these past few years."

"So why didn't you call?" Santana asked in a small voice.

"I was afraid. I was afraid of what your father would say, but mostly I was afraid that you would hate me. And the longer I waited, the more likely it was that you would want nothing to do with me."

"I never had a problem with you, Mami."

"Because I never had a problem with you and Brittany."

"But we kind of sprung it on you…"

Angelica laughed. "Oh Santana, mija, do you really think that's true? I've known about you and Brittany since the beginning."

Santana's eyes widened, and Brittany's face turned terrified. "What?"

"I've known about you and Brittany since day one. Goodness Santana, these walls aren't soundproof." Santana turned a furious shade of red. "Didn't you ever wonder how your father never found out? I bought earplugs, and I used to put them in his ears every night after he fell asleep."

Santana gaped at her mother for a full 30 seconds, before Brittany broke the silence. She laughed. She laughed harder than she had in days, doubled over in mirth, almost falling to the floor in her amusement. Even Santana couldn't fight back a grin.

"San-Santana. She-she knew the who-whole time! Hahahaha!"

"Brittany, stop laughing. My mother just told us that she listened to us having sex for like, two full years."

Brittany just laughed harder.

Angelica smiled at the blonde and her daughter. "I've missed your laugh, Brittany."

Brittany had stopped her guffawing, and was now down to light chuckles. "I've missed laughing so much. It was only ever the Lopez family that could make me laugh like that."

"What's all the commotion?" A male voice called from upstairs. Brittany and Santana froze, their smiles slipping off their faces. Angelica did not miss how Santana moved so she was slightly in front of her girlfriend, protective of her.

"It's me, Mario. I'm home. I was just saying hello to Santana and Brittany. You didn't tell me they were coming."

Mario smiled a strained smile. "It was a surprise. A good one, I hope?"

Angelica smiled largely, wrapping an arm around each girl, trying to make them more comfortable. "A very good one." She said, squeezing each girl's waist, and bringing them closer to her.

Mario looked down at his wife's hands, and felt conflicting emotions in his heart. In one part, he wanted to smile to see his wife so happy, but in the other, larger part, he wanted to scowl at the amount of affection Angelica was showing towards _her_. Their daughter was one thing, but _her_…

But he did not scowl. He didn't smile, either, though. He kept his face neutral, hoping that no one had noticed his brief glance down at the place where their bodies all met. Every single one of them had.

Santana immediately felt furry erupt in her heart. She couldn't stop herself, this time. "Do you have a problem with Brittany, Dad?"

Mario didn't answer. He wasn't sure which answer would get him in the least amount of trouble.

"Because if you do, don't bother trying to hide it, let's get it all out in the open now."

"Santana," Brittany whispered, "don't bother…"

"No, Britt. I'm not going to spend any extended period of time in this house if he keeps silently judging us! What the hell can't you accept about Brittany?"

"Santana, this is hardly the time…"

"No, Papi. It's been three years. This sure as hell is the time! I couldn't say these things to you three years ago, when I was dying for your affection and your love. But I stopped being accepted by you three years ago, you made that perfectly clear. And I haven't needed your approval for years. But I need to know what you have against my girlfriend."

Mario felt his own anger rising. "Santana Maria Lopez, you will not talk to me that way!"

"Why not? I'll talk to you however the hell I want, because you are _not_ my father anymore!"

"Santana," Brittany said again, this time a little louder, moving over to take her girlfriend's hand, "stop. Please stop. You're going to regret this tomorrow."

"I won't though, Britt. He hasn't talked to me in years. And Mami, I love you, and I _will_ stay in Lima until you're better, but I won't stay in the same house as _him_ unless he talks to me about what his problem is!"

Mario bristled. "I don't have a problem, Santana."

"Don't lie to me!" She yelled at him.

"Fine, you want to know what my problem is?" Santana nodded stiffly. "This _girl_ came into our family and ruined it! She ruined it all! We were happy, Santana! You were happy, you were going places, and you were dating such nice boys…"

"Her name is Brittany, Dad, _Brittany_. How can you have forgotten it? You used to know it, back when Britt was my best friend, and over here almost every day. And I wasn't happy. How dare you even pretend like you knew me at all? You knew _nothing_ about me. You were never home, and when you were here, you were in your study. I tried for so long, Papi, so long to get you to notice me, to be proud of me, but you never were. You never _noticed_.

"I _have_ gone places, Papi. But you wouldn't know. I'm in college, I'm doing well; I have friends, and a summer job, and a girlfriend I'm desperately in love with. I'm happier than I ever was in Lima _fucking_ Ohio.

"And the boys I dated weren't nice, they were jerks. They only dated me so they could sleep with me. And you know what? I slept with _every single one_. I tried so hard to feel something, _anything_, with one of them, that I became a slut. I thought that if I had sex with enough boys, eventually I would feel _something_. But I never did.

"But then I started having sex with Brittany. And I never knew sex could be so _good_. I never knew it could feel like _that_."

"Santana, por favor, mija, _stop._" Mario groaned, covering his ears.

"No! You need to listen to this, Dad. You need to understand what I feel when I look at Brittany. When I'm with her, I finally get what people are talking about when they talk about love. I know what love is with Britt. Why can't you see that? Why can't you see the beautiful girl that I'm in love with? What kind of delusional world have you trapped yourself in to make you think that hating your only daughter is okay? Why can't you just be happy for me?"

"Because it is a sin, Santana! God did not mean for two men… or two women… to be in a relationship."

Santana laughed humorlessly, cruelly. "Oh, _God_ says so, does He? Well you know what I think of God? I think He's not real. I think that the Bible was written by a bunch of white dudes too afraid of anything different to allow them to even _comprehend_ anything abnormal. You know what else it says in the Bible, Papi? Wives are supposed to be submissive to their husbands. I don't see Mami being 'submissive'. Women aren't allowed to teach men, either, so your high school science teacher, the one that made you want to be a doctor? She's rotting in Hell."

"Santana, you can't just…"

"Women can't wear gold, or pearls, so Mami's wedding ring? It's against God. Women can't wear clothes 'pertaining to a man', so the pants that Mami's wearing? Also not allowed. No shellfish, no pork, and you're also not allowed to shave, but every morning, you shave off your beard. No clothes of more than one fabric and disobedient children must be taken to the edge of the village and _stoned_. That's all in the Bible, Papi, and how many of those things do you do?"

Mario was stunned into silence.

"That's what I thought. All of those things are in the Bible. Why don't people do them every day? Why aren't there laws and court hearings every time a man shaves off his beard? But because I'm _in love_, I'm going to burn in Hell forever. According to the Bible, so are you and Mami. But what did you do wrong? You broke the Bible's rules. Why is mine so much worse? Why do people still take the things written in the Bible seriously, when they ignore more than half of the entries? It's because they _don't care_ that the Bible tells them not to shave, or eat pork, or wear gold. But they care that I'm in love with a girl.

"Don't you talk to me about it being a fucking _sin,_ Papi, because I'm going to Hell for my sins, but you think you can just get a free pass up to Heaven for breaking countless rules of the Bible? You disgust me. I can't stand to look at you. Come on Britt, we need to get out of here." Santana finally said, brushing at her tears and gripping Brittany's hand tightly, leading her out of the house with a loud slam of the door.

"What is wrong with you, Mario?" Angelica asked, with so much venom in her voice that Mario physically recoiled. "Haven't you done enough damage? Three years without our daughter is _not_ something I'm going to tolerate again. If you can't get your head out of your ass and embrace your daughter for her, for _all of her_, I'm getting a divorce. I love you more than anything, but if you refuse to let our daughter be happy, I will not sit by and watch. I made that mistake once." Angelica grabbed her keys off the floor and rushed out of the house after her daughter.

Mario watched them go, his heart heavy, his eyes full of tears, and more confused than he'd ever been before.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana didn't have a car. She didn't really realize that until she was storming out of her house with nowhere to go. But she didn't stop moving. She was determined to get as far away from her father as possible.

Brittany kept up with her, step for step, but she knew Santana had no ending goal. "Santana? Where do you want to go? We could go to my house…"

"No, Britt. I can't deal with families, especially one that actually likes us." Brittany's shoulders dropped a bit. Santana didn't slow down, but she did squeeze Brittany's hand lightly. "We'll go see them soon Britt, I promise. I just need to chill for a while. I don't want to end up yelling at them."

"It's fine, Santana. But do you want to sit down somewhere so we can talk about this?"

Santana ran a hand through her hair. "I don't like talking, Britt."

Brittany huffed. "No, Santana. We're not going back to this. You _love_ talking things through with me. You're not in high school anymore; no one's going to judge us or hate us for who we are. You can't go back to hiding your feelings, not when we just got started with the whole sharing thing. I can't believe an hour with your father brought us all the way back to here. I feel like we're still in eleventh grade."

Brittany dropped her hand and started walking away, but she didn't get more than a few feet before Santana's hand was back in hers, pulling her around. "I'm sorry." Santana said sincerely. "I'm sorry B, you're right." Santana brought their joined hands up to her mouth and kissed Brittany's knuckles. "Let's go sit somewhere and talk."

Santana looked to her left and saw that they were in front of McKinley, their old high school. "Wow, how fast was I walking?"

Brittany laughed. "It's a Monday, too. I wonder if Mr. Schue's in there."

Santana shot her a look. "Do you want to go see him?"

Brittany shook her head. "No, let's talk first."

"No Britt, let's go see Mr. Schue. We haven't seen him in years, and besides, I need time to work out my… feelings… Does that make sense?"

Brittany kissed her softly. "Yeah Santana, that makes sense."

And then they walked into their old high school like they never could have when they were students there; hand in hand.

"God, this place hasn't changed at all." Santana mumbled.

Brittany was practically bouncing with excitement. "I think it's amazing! It's exactly the same as it was when we were going here! I wonder if there are little Santana's and Brittany's and Quinn's around here!"

Santana laughed. "I seriously doubt it, Britt. And for the rest of the school's sake, I really hope not."

Brittany chuckled. "Where do you think Mr. Schue would be?"

Santana glanced around and noticed that the school was basically empty. "Well, I think it's after school, so probably the choir room. I wonder how the Glee Club is without us."

Brittany giggled. "They're probably awful. The only reason we ever won anything was because of you, Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, and Rachel."

"Britt, that's not true. Don't you remember performing 'Valerie'? We definitely wouldn't have won that if you and Mike hadn't done that awesome dance."

"Santana, you could have gone out onto that stage in a clown costume and still won it for us. You're an amazing singer; always have been, and hopefully always will be."

Santana kissed her girlfriend softly. "Thanks B."

They stood still for a few more seconds in their old hallway, before Brittany tightened her grip on Santana's hand and dragged her down the hall towards the choir room.

They paused outside it, hand in hand, listening for any sound of Mr. Schue.

"Alright guys, this week our lesson is 'A capella'. Do any of you know what 'A capella' is?"

"It means singing without instruments." Santana said from the doorway.

Mr. Schue whipped around, eyes bulging as he saw the two girls standing out in the hall. "Santana! Brittany!"

Brittany giggled and ran forward, pulling Santana with her, to hug Mr. Schuester tightly.

He laughed. "It's great to see you! How are you guys?"

"We're great! But I really miss Glee Club." Brittany said once they had pulled away.

"How's college going?"

"It's good." Santana answered. "It's actually really fun, most of the time. And we still see Quinn, and Kurt, and the hobbit sometimes, so…"

"How are they? I hear Rachel's gotten some good parts in some major shows."

"Yeah, she really has. She's doing great, you know her. She loves Broadway and Broadway loves her. She's bummed that she hasn't gotten a Tony yet, though."

Mr. Schue laughed. "That sounds just like Rachel. So what are you doing back here?"

"Well…" Santana started, but she didn't know how to explain the situation, or if she even wanted to.

"We came back to visit my family." Brittany answered for her, effortlessly. "They've missed us a lot, and I just really needed to see them soon, you know?"

Mr. Schue nodded in understanding. "Hey, I heard Puckerman's back in town. You guys should drop by his house to see him."

"No way, Puck? Oh my God I haven't spoken to him since Senior Year!"

"I know Santana. But you guys were pretty close at some point, right?"

Santana blushed. "Yeah, you could say that."

One of the kids in the classroom coughed, and it brought all three adults back to the present. "I'm sorry guys! This is Santana Lopez," Mr. Schue gestured to Santana, who gave a small little wave, "and Brittany Pierce," he pointed to Brittany, who beamed, "two of my old students. They were in Glee Club when they were here, too."

Santana looked around the room. There were only about thirteen or fourteen kids in there, which was about how many they had when they went to school here, too. As far as she could tell, none of them were exactly popular. At least, none of them were wearing Cheerio uniforms. A couple of the big guys could be on the football team, though.

"Wait… _them_?" One blonde boy in the front row asked. "But I've seen their pictures in the Yearbook. I thought they were Cheerios."

Brittany smiled. "Honey, we _were_ in Cheerios. But we were in Glee Club, too. Singing and dancing was always more fun for us than Sue Sylvester and her megaphone of terror." Most of the kids laughed.

"So was Glee popular when you guys went here?" a thin black girl asked from the third row.

"No. Not at all. We were kind of at the bottom of the social ladder. I swear there was a time where the Glee kids couldn't go a day without being slushied…"

"They did that to you too?" The same girl asked.

Brittany and Santana looked at each other, somewhat guilty looks on their faces. "Actually, we were the ones doing the slushie-ing. Or, I was, at least." Santana said.

"But they haven't had slushies here in over a year." Mr. Schue quickly added.

"They finally banned slushies? About time!" Brittany said.

"Yeah, well after one girl slipped on the syrup and cracked her head on the ground, the school board decided it was best that they get rid of all the slushies."

"I can't believe it! But it's great, of course. I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of those, and it's _not_ fun." A few of the kids nodded in solemn agreement.

"How long can you guys stay?" Mr. Schue cut in, trying to steer the conversation away from bullying.

"Not very long, I don't think. Sorry Mr. Schue." Brittany said, sadly.

Mr. Schue smiled. "That's fine. I'm glad you stopped by. Hey, do you want to perform a song for us before you go?"

"Uhh…" Santana looked at Brittany, who was beaming. She couldn't say no to that face. "Sure, Mr. Schue."

She walked over to the band and whispered something in the guitarist's ear. As she turned to head back to Brittany, she caught sight of the guy sitting at the piano. She smiled at him. "Nice to see you again, Brad. I'm sorry I said you were furniture."

He smiled at her and shook his head, as if to say, 'Don't worry about it'.

When Santana got back to Brittany, the other girl said, "Do I even need to ask?"

Santana beamed and shook her head.

Brittany grinned and opened her mouth to sing, "All my people in the crowd,"

"Grab a partner take it down!"

And with that, they broke into their old favorite, 'Me Against the Music'. Brittany danced, they both sang, and by the end, the boys in the room were all salivating.

"Woo!" Mr. Schue cheered when they were done. "That was amazing, you two! Looks like you've still got it."

"Don't even think for a second that we lost it, Mr. Schue." Santana teased.

Mr. Schuester looked at his watch. "Well it looks like we're all out of time. Same time tomorrow, everyone. Santana, Brittany, it was good to see you. Don't be shy about calling me or emailing me about how you're doing. You know how much I love to hear from you guys."

With one last hug and a, "Bye Mr. Schue" from both of them, Santana and Brittany left the classroom.

Before they could make it out of the school though, the blonde boy from the choir room stepped out from around a corner, leering at them.

"Can I help you?" Santana asked, in her best 'head bitch' voice. She hadn't used that voice in three years.

He smirked. "Santana Lopez." She didn't like the way he said her name. "You were legendary here. You were a senior when I was a freshman, and let me tell you, your reputation preceded you."

"Is this going anywhere Tiny Tim?"

"I was just wondering if you were doing anything later."

Santana smirked at him. "How old are you, fifteen?"

He bristled. "Seventeen, actually."

"Oooh, sorry kid, I don't date people in high school. Or boys, for that matter."

"What does that mean?"

Santana linked her hand with Brittany's. "I'm spoken for." Brittany winked at him before speeding off down the hall, out the school, and away from pervy teenage boys.

Once they got a fair distance away, Brittany slowed down, laughing. She leaned over and kissed Santana firmly. "Thanks for that, San. I really liked that."

"Me too. I actually kinda missed Mr. Schue."

Brittany pulled on Santana's hand, stopping her completely. Santana looked up into her girlfriend's brilliantly blue eyes, and forgot how to breathe.

"I love you, Santana. You know how much I love you."

"I know, Britt. I love you too."

"I want you to talk to me about things. We can't work in a relationship if we aren't open with each other."

"I completely agree."

"So talk to me about your family."

Santana sighed. "Can we sit down somewhere? I feel like this is going to take me a while."

Brittany nodded and led Santana over to a bench, where they sat, before gesturing for her to continue.

"You know that this is a rough subject for me. In the three years that we've been away from here, how many times have I mentioned my dad?"

Brittany shrugged. "Maybe twice."

Santana nodded. "I hate dealing with him. You know back when we were in high school, and I was terrified of my feelings for you? Well, that was why. I wasn't afraid that people were going to talk about me behind my back, or that they would call me names, or kick me off of the Cheerios, because I had you. But then… I didn't have you. You were with Artie, and you didn't want to be with me…"

Brittany opened her mouth to say something, but Santana held up a hand.

"I know, Britt. I know that you love me, and that you wished you had just said yes when I told you I loved you in front of our lockers all those years ago. I know. I'm over that, because the past three years have been enough to convince me that I will _always_ have you. But in eleventh grade, I wasn't sure. And if I didn't even have you, how was I supposed to take on everyone else?

"It was hard for me, Britt. But once we finally got together, I wasn't worried about telling people anymore. I knew my parents were Christian, and I knew that they didn't like gay people, but hell, I'm their _daughter_. Aren't they supposed to like me?

"I knew it'd be hard for them, especially my dad, but… well _you_ know Britt, you were there. It was _impossible_. The things he said…" Santana's eyes filled with tears.

"You don't have to think about it, San. It's all behind us. Three years behind us. And he hugged you today. That must mean something, right?"

"It means that he missed me, and he let his emotions take control for a few seconds. That's all." She snapped.

"Santana… you don't mean that."

"Well what am I supposed to think, Britt? Yeah he hugged me, but then he went on to talk about how we were 'sinning'. What am I supposed to think?"

"He's confused, Santana. He's still confused. He sees you now, after three years, and he sees how happy we are together, and suddenly he's not sure what to believe. His faith tells him that we're sinning, that what we're doing is wrong, but then he sees us, and we're just the same as we were three years ago. But at the same time, we're completely different. We've grown up, we've gotten smarter, and we're _happy_. We're in love. He doesn't know what to make of it, because if we're sinning, shouldn't we be miserable? We don't have God's love, so shouldn't we be worse off than we were when we were trying to convince ourselves that we were straight?"

Santana stared at her girlfriend, surprised. "How can you know all that about my dad?"

Brittany shrugged. "You always said I was people-smart. I guess because I'm not smart, I'm good with peoples' emotions."

"B of course you're smart."

Brittany shrugged. "It doesn't really matter to me. I'm not good with books, or school, like you, but I'm a good dancer, and I'm good with people. That's enough for me."

Santana kissed her, because she couldn't think of another way to tell this wonderful, beautiful girl how much she meant to her. And Brittany understood completely.

They were still kissing when Mrs. Lopez drove up next to them two minutes later. "Santana." She called from inside the car, and Santana pulled away from Brittany quickly.

"Mami?"

"I've been looking everywhere for you, mija." Angelica said, stepping out of the car and hurrying over to her daughter, enveloping her in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over him. I left, though. I told him that if he couldn't accept you and Brittany for exactly who you were, I was going to divorce him."

"Mami, no. You love him. You can't just leave him because he doesn't like who I'm dating."

"It's not the _who_, Santana. It's the fact that Brittany's a girl. He used to love her, before you told him about the two of you. And that is unacceptable. I won't let him drive away my two daughters."

Santana's eyes filled with tears to hear her mother refer to Brittany as a daughter. That's all she had ever wanted; to have Brittany be accepted as part of their family. "Thank you Mami."

Angelica nodded. "Now, I can't exactly move out of the house, can I? But I know you two probably won't want to go back there tonight, so take the car."

Angelica held the keys out to Santana, who refused to take them. "No, Mami. You need the car. I don't want you walking back…"

"Nonsense mija. It's only a few blocks. And besides, pretty soon I won't be able to leave my bed, so I figure I should take all the exercise I can get." She chuckled.

"How can you joke about this?"

Angelica placed a hand on Santana's cheek. "I'm going to be fine, Santana. I'll just be in bed for a few months. Besides, if I don't joke about it, then we're all going to be horribly depressed for the next few months, aren't we? I love you Santana, and it means a lot that you're here. Please don't leave because of your father."

"Of course not, Mami. We're staying right here." Brittany nodded emphatically.

"So where are you going to go tonight?"

"We can go to my house." Brittany said, quickly. "My parents are probably dying to see us, anyways. We'll be back tomorrow, Angelica. It'll give Mario some time to think."

Angelica nodded. She put the keys in Santana's hand, and then kissed both girls once on the cheek, before turning around and walking back towards the house.

"Your mom's amazing." Brittany whispered into Santana's ear.

Santana smiled and leaned into her girlfriend. "She really is, isn't she?" Santana was quiet for a few seconds, watching her mother's retreating figure. "Why does she have to be sick? She doesn't deserve it."

"No she doesn't."

"Then why is she?"

Brittany shrugged and traced her fingers up and down Santana's arm. "I don't know, San. Life's not fair like it should be. But we're here, together, and she'll be okay. I promise she'll be okay."

Santana sighed and rested her forehead on Brittany's shoulder. Brittany wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's shoulders, and Santana slipped hers around the taller girl's waist.

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Finally, Brittany pulled away. "Come on San. Let's go to my house, have some dinner, and then we can go to sleep. Before you know it, it'll be tomorrow, and this shitty day will be behind us."

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good Britt."

Brittany drove to her house. She didn't think it was a good idea for Santana to be in control of a heavy vehicle at the moment. Santana didn't mind. She spent the whole car ride with her left hand tightly wound through Brittany's right. They didn't speak, but then, they didn't really need to. Everything had already been said.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Angelica enjoyed walking. It was something that she often did to clear her head when she and Mario weren't getting along. Those times seemed more and more frequent, lately.

She really didn't mind giving Santana the car. Her husband would probably throw a fit about it, but hell, it was her car too, and if she wanted to lend it to their daughter and her girlfriend, then she would.

Angelica didn't want to go home. She didn't want her husband to have locked himself in his study to avoid talking to her. He did that sometimes, much to her frustration. He seemed to think that if a problem went unaddressed, it would simply disappear.

The problems didn't disappear, though. They just festered, and got worse. Angelica knew this to be true, but Mario seemed to 'forget' every time they had an argument.

But she knew she had to go home. She wasn't twenty years old anymore. She couldn't run out of the house every time they fought. If that were the case, she would spend almost none of her time at home.

Don't get her wrong, she loved her husband. She loved him to death. He was the thing that got her out of bed in the morning, when all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sleep until she couldn't remember her estranged daughter or the cancer growing inside her body. Her husband kept her living.

She loved him, but sometimes she just couldn't stand him. Like right now.

Angelica sighed and paused for another second before she opened the front door. She half expected her husband to not even be in the house, but to her surprise, he was right there, in the front hall, flowers in hand, bouncing from side-to-side nervously. Santana did the same thing when she was anxious.

Angelica blinked at him for a few moments.

"These are for you." He said, holding out the bouquet of roses.

Angelica looked at them, and then held out her hand, accepting the gift, and his apology, all at once.

"I'm sorry, Ange. I know I shouldn't have said what I did. It's just… seeing Santana again after so long… it messed with me. I know it shouldn't have. I should have been more prepared. But after what I said to her three years ago… I was so angry back then. I was a horrible father. I couldn't accept her and love her for exactly who she is, and I'll never forgive myself."

"Why are you telling me all this? You should be talking to Santana."

"Because I'm not ready. I'm not ready to see her… to see them together. I love Santana, I do, but I don't know if I can love that she loves girls. I can accept it, and deal with it, but I don't know if I can talk about it with her."

"She's your daughter, Mario."

He sighed. "I know."

"She's your daughter, and she always will be. And she'll always be a lesbian." Mario flinched at the word. "Even if she doesn't stay with Brittany forever, that won't make her switch back to men. She doesn't _want_ them, and you can't force her to. She's our daughter, our baby girl, and she's in love. Why can't we just be happy for her?"

"I'm not ready to deal with it. My whole life, my mother and my grandmother have taught me that men are supposed to love women, and women are supposed to love men. Marriage is between a man and a woman. It always has been, and it always will be. My preacher used to teach us every week that the homosexuals were defying God, and that they didn't deserve His love.

"Can you imagine what they would all say, knowing that I raised a gay daughter? We used to pick on the gay kids at my school. We would toss them in trash cans, and throw food at them. And it never seemed _wrong_ to me, because they were the ones doing something wrong. And maybe that's wrong. But it's what I've always _believed_, Ange. I can't just change it all of a sudden. My ideas of marriage will always be the same."

"That's what you've been taught all your life. Do you think I was raised any different? I'm a Catholic too, Mario. My parents taught me of the dangers of homosexuals too. But unlike you, I realized how wrong _they _were.

"It's not who you have sex with, it's who you fall in love with. And our daughter is in love with another girl. Why doesn't she deserve to marry the girl of her dreams? Because the Bible says that it's wrong? Our daughter can't be happy because a 2,000 year old book says she can't be? How is that fair?"

Mario couldn't answer. He was thinking everything through. He wanted Santana to be happy, but couldn't she be happy with a man?

Angelica seemed to read his mind. "She won't ever be happy with anyone except Brittany, Mario. Don't delude yourself into thinking otherwise. And you don't have to change what you believe in all of a sudden. But damn it Mario, you've had _three years_ to change your judgments about our daughter. When are you going to start?"

Angelica turned away and walked into the kitchen.

"Where are they?" Mario called after her.

"They're staying at Brittany's house tonight. For some reason, they didn't feel welcome here." She shot him a pointed look before she took the roses, put them in a vase with water, and started cooking dinner. Mario retreated to his study to think, and for once, Angelica didn't mind that he was locked in there.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana wasn't sure how she was going to feel at Brittany's house. First of all, they showed up there with no warning, and no suitcases either. She didn't know how Britt's family would feel about that. I mean, they'd always been supportive of their relationship, but Santana was sure that that could have changed since she last saw the Pierce's.

But she shouldn't have worried. Brittany's family loved her. But actually, they _loved _her. She didn't know why. She was a horrible influence on Brittany. Britt was so pure, so sweet, and _she_ was all kinds of messed up. But the Pierce's never saw it that way. They always considered Santana a part of the family. Usually, she really appreciated that. But tonight, it was just difficult.

They didn't let her think about it too much, though. The second the front door had opened to reveal Meg Pierce, Brittany's mom, on the other side, Santana hadn't had a second to herself to think. It was wonderful.

"Brittany! Santana! What on Earth are you two doing here? Oh goodness, get inside. Come in, come in!" She said flustered, ushering them in quickly. "Oh it's wonderful to see you!" She pulled her daughter into a tight hug, before grabbing Santana and embracing her as well.

"Hi Mom." Brittany said, smiling hugely.

"Hey Meg." Santana said once the older woman had released her.

"Britt?" Someone called from the family room. Brittany's thousand-watt smile got even brighter, as another blonde head poked around the corner. "Britt! Santana!" The girl squealed, rushing through the house to jump on the two girls.

Santana grunted, receiving most of the girl's weight. "Jesus Katie, what have you been eating?" She teased.

Brittany's 17 year old sister pulled away and slapped Santana's arm lightly. "Shush you. You don't get to tease me. I haven't seen you two in months! What is this?"

"I know Kate, I'm sorry. We've been really busy lately." Brittany said apologetically, hooking her arm through her sister's and allowing herself to get pulled into the family room.

"Too busy having sex." Katie mumbled, just loud enough for Brittany and Santana to hear. Santana turned a brilliant shade of red, but Brittany just laughed.

"Oh you have no idea." She said, winking at Santana who, if possible, got even more embarrassed.

"Ew. Gross, Britt."

Brittany shrugged. "You're the one that said it! Now let me look at you. Geez, you're tall. You're almost as tall as me now. What has Mom been putting in your juice boxes?" She teased.

Katie laughed. "It's crazy, isn't it? In a few months I'm going to be applying to colleges."

Mr. Pierce groaned from the couch. "Oh, don't remind me." He stood up and walked over to hug his daughter and her girlfriend. "Hello Britt, Santana. It's really good to see you. You should come visit more often."

"Yeah, no kidding. I go crazy around here with just them." Katie said, gesturing at her two parents.

Brittany laughed. "We're really going to try and come out more often. You know you could come visit us out in New York, too."

Katie sighed. "But that's _so_ much work…"

"Too much for your big sister?"

Katie grinned. "I'm just kidding. It's totally worth it. But Mom and Dad don't think I'm old enough to fly by myself."

"Is that true?" Santana asked Mr. Pierce.

"She's just a kid, San." He said.

"Come on Gordon, she's practically an adult."

"Thank you Santana! I knew there was a reason I liked having you around."

"I thought it was because no one in your family has any fashion sense…"

The whole family laughed.

"Well, there's that too…" Katie sat down on the couch, pulling Santana down next to her and throwing an arm over the older woman's shoulder. "Boy have I missed you."

"I've miss you too, Katie Bear."

Katie made a face. "You know I hate that name."

"And you know I hate 'Sanny-Clause'. Doesn't stop you, does it?"

Katie laughed. "Good point. Okay, all nicknames are fair game. Deal?" She stuck out her left hand and Santana gripped it with hers.

"Deal."

"So what are you guys doing back here? It doesn't seem like the kind of thing to just decide to do on a Monday afternoon. And where are all your bags?" Meg asked, situating herself in an armchair, facing the rest of the family.

Santana glanced at Brittany, silently begging her to take over the discussion.

"Well…" Brittany started. She cleared her throat, and continued, "We got an interesting call from Mario Lopez yesterday."

The Pierce family froze. They knew how Mario had treated the two girls three years before. Santana had moved into the Pierce household after that for the last month of high school. Gordon had been so angry. He had tried to go over to the Lopez house and knock some sense into Mario, but Santana and Brittany had stopped him.

Gordon grimaced. "And what did he have to say?"

Santana and Brittany exchanged another glance. "He asked us to come back here." Brittany said. "And then, when we got here today, he told us… he said that Angelica's sick."

Meg and Katie gasped. "How sick?" Mrs. Pierce asked.

"Ovarian cancer." Brittany said. "It's not terminal, but she's still going to go through some intense surgeries."

"My goodness," Mrs. Pierce managed to breathe out, "we had no idea. Oh Santana dear, how are you?"

Santana shrugged. "I guess I'm okay. I mean, the worst part of all this was seeing my dad again." Katie squeezed her shoulders lightly. Santana leaned into the younger girl's embrace. "She's going to be fine, and that's a huge relief. Our bags are over at my house, because we were going to stay there…"

"You _were_ going to stay there?" Gordon asked, his voice tight.

"Yeah." Brittany said softly. "Santana and Mario got into a little bit of a fight…"

"It was about your relationship, wasn't it?" Gordon asked angrily.

"Yeah Dad, it was, but…"

"No, Brittany! You can't make any more excuses for him! The way he's treated you girls these past three years has been unacceptable. I won't stand for it any longer!" Gordon stood up quickly and grabbed his car keys.

"No Dad, please…"

"Gordon, stop…" Brittany and Santana both pleaded, hurrying after him. But nothing they said made any difference. He was out the door and in his car within seconds.

Brittany and Santana stood staring at the front door of Brittany's house, unmoving. Finally, Santana turned quickly on the spot and launched herself into Brittany's arms. The taller girl held onto her tightly.

Santana cried softly into her shoulder as Brittany rubbed soothing circles on her back.

"I wish I had a father like that." Santana whispered in Brittany's ear.

Brittany didn't know what to say, so she just pulled her girlfriend tighter into her embrace, and stroked her hair. She wished Santana had a dad like hers, too.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Gordon Pierce pulled up in front of the Lopez house, still furious. He jumped out of his car, and stomped up the steps. He pounded on the door with his closed fist, not giving anyone inside a moment to answer him.

When the door was pulled open, he was greeted with a very sad and very sick-looking Mrs. Lopez. His demeanor immediately softened.

"Gordon? Are the girls alright?" Angelica asked quickly.

Gordon nodded, and softened more when he realized that Angelica must have been instrumental in the girls arriving at the Pierce house when they did. "They're just fine, Angelica. How are you?"

Mrs. Lopez shrugged. "I'm fine. People are making a bigger deal out of this than it is."

"It _is_ a big deal, Angelica. I want you to know, that if you need anything, Meg and I are just a phone call away."

Angelica nodded. "Of course. Thank you."

"I wish you all the best, and I am sincerely sorry for what I'm about to do."

Angelica sighed. "Is this about my husband?" Gordon nodded. "I'm assuming the girls told you about their little… conversation?" Another nod. "He's in his study."

"Thank you." Gordon hurried past her and down the familiar hallway to the large oak doors. Gordon used to spend a great deal of time in this house. I mean, their daughters were best friends, and his wife and Angelica Lopez were always good friends. It makes sense that they would have dinners over here at least once a week. These got less frequent as the girls got older, but that was mostly due to the fact that they didn't want their parents around them. That was usual in teenage relationships, but it was especially poignant with his daughter and Santana because of the intense feelings they had for each other.

Gordon didn't mind. He was happy when his daughter and Santana would have dinner and sleep over at their house.

He remembered the Lopez house very well. He spent a good amount of time in Mario's study, too. Though they might have conflicting opinions about some things, the two men got along very well. Or, they used to.

Gordon knocked on the door. He would have just burst in, but he remembered that Mario liked to keep the doors locked, even when he was inside.

Mario threw the door open, expecting to find his wife, and was shocked to see Gordon Pierce on the other side, looking agitated.

"Gordon?" He asked, surprised. He hadn't seen the man in almost 4 years.

"Mario." Mr. Pierce answered curtly. He shoved past Mario and into the study, not even pretending to be polite.

"Can I help you with something, Gordon?"

"I don't know Mario, can you?"

Mr. Lopez shut the door to his office, hoping to block out some of the sound. Somehow, he felt this conversation would not end in hugs. "Do you have something you want to talk about?"

"Yes I do, you conservative asshole." Mario blinked. He had never heard Gordon be so hostile. "You are a complete dick. I feel infantile saying this, but really, I don't know another way to do it. You're a dick, Mario Lopez. I don't know how that sweet woman puts up with you."

Mario bristled. "You leave my wife out of this. What did I do to insult you?"

"Not me you moron, our daughters. You know how upset I was after that incident three years ago, but how dare you pull another stunt like that now?"

"Look, Gordon, I don't expect you to understand…"

"No, I don't understand. Because after what you did to Santana last time, I don't understand how a father could put their child through something so horrendous again. But then again, maybe you don't know." Mario opened his mouth to say something, but Gordon held up a hand.

"I'm trying to be civil here, Mario. I'm just here to say my bit and leave. If you speak, I can't be held accountable for my actions."

Gordon took a deep breath. "You didn't see that girl three years ago, Mario. After you stormed out of your own house, demanding that she leave, you didn't see her. I did. I almost wish I hadn't. She came to my house after you destroyed her. I was the one that held her the next day, and stroked her hair, and told her it would all be okay. I was the one that promised to protect her. And she fell asleep in _my_ arms. I brought her upstairs to my daughter's bed, and she slept there, in Brittany's arms, for _days_.

"I took care of her, Mario, because her own father had effectively disowned her. She lost her whole family that day. And I've always loved that girl like my own daughter, but our surrogate family is no replacement for her real one. What's worse is that you dragged her mother into it. I'll never know why Angelica didn't up and leave you three years ago, but she must be very loyal. She must really love you to put up with all that shit.

"So you're right Mario, I don't understand. I don't understand how, after three years of emotional healing and detoxing herself from you, you can destroy her all over again within an hour of her being home. You are a terrible father. Don't let anyone tell you differently. If I was that girl, I'd never forgive you. But Santana is a wonderful girl. She's a great child, a strong woman, and the best person I could ever want for Brittany. I don't care that she's a woman, because she loves my daughter more than any man ever could. Santana may forgive you, but the rest of my family, Mario, will _not_. You may as well have never raised that girl. I don't know how she turned out so well, with a father like you. It must be all Angelica's doing."

And with that, Gordon Pierce turned on his heel and stormed out of the Lopez house. And once again, Mario was left confused, crushed, and horribly guilty. He couldn't believe he had managed to alienate his daughter, his wife, and his oldest family friends all in one day. And just with a few, stupid words.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana and Brittany decided to skip dinner that night. It had been a long day, with lots of travel, and far too many tears in Santana's opinion. Brittany changed into sweatpants and an old tank top, and gave Santana one of her old shirts to wear. Santana looked down at it, and simultaneously wanted to cry and laugh.

It was the 'Lebanese' shirt that Brittany had made for her during their 'Born this Way' lesson. "Britt, why do you still have this?"

Brittany shrugged. "It's the first time you really started to accept yourself. When you wore that shirt Santana, even if it wasn't on stage, it still meant a lot to me. It's how I first knew how much you really cared about me."

Santana kissed her girlfriend softly. "I love you B."

"Love you too. Now put it on, I'm exhausted."

Santana pulled off her dress and pulled the shirt over her head. Santana stood there in her 'Lebanese' tee-shirt and pink boy short panties, and she had never looked more beautiful to Brittany.

"You sure we can't have sex?" Brittany asked, half-joking, half-serious.

"Not unless you want your mom and sister listening."

Brittany shrugged. "Your mom listened to us for like, two years."

"BRITT!" Santana yelled, aghast.

"I'm kidding, Tana."

Santana sighed. "Great, make me think about my mother listening in on our sexcapades _right_ now."

"So… do you think she heard _everything_?"

"What do you mean, Britt?"

"Well, we tried a lot of things up in your room. Do you think she heard everything?"

"Oh Christ, I hope not. I'll never live some of that stuff down."

Brittany pulled Santana closer to her and kissed her shoulder. "I doubt she'll ever bring it up again. That was mortifying enough for all three of us the first time."

Santana laughed and kissed Brittany lightly. "I love you, Brittany S. Pierce."

"I love you, Santana Maria Lopez. Will you still be here when I wake up?"

Santana smiled into Brittany's neck. She had been asking the same question every night for three years, ever since Santana told her parents that she and Brittany were a couple. That first night, Brittany had wanted to make sure that Santana wouldn't sneak off like she used to, back when she was denying her feelings. They'd fall asleep in the same bed, and Brittany would wake up alone.

And every night after that for three years, Brittany had asked the same question. She said it was like a good luck charm, a little prayer; if she said it every night, it would guarantee that Santana would still be there in the morning.

And every night for three years, Santana had responded the same way. "I'm here forever, Britt."

Brittany and Santana fell into slumber, submerging in their own dream worlds.

Unbeknownst to father and daughter, they both had the same dream that night. Neither one enjoyed it.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

_Early May, 2012_

_Santana sat up in her room on her bed with Brittany. Santana's head was resting on Brittany's chest while the taller girl traced patterns up and down her arm. Santana sighed in quiet contentment. She'd never been happier in her life than these past few months with Britt._

_For these past six months, Santana's life had seemed almost too good to be true. She was popular at school, she had been accepted by every college she applied to, Glee Club had won Nationals, and she had Brittany. It was the best senior year she could have ever hoped for._

_But Brittany wasn't quite as happy as her girlfriend. Yes, she was ecstatic that it was her senior year, and that she would be going off to college in a few months. And she was ecstatic that she was dating Santana. But they still had to hide their relationship, at least around Santana's family._

_Brittany's own family had been aware of their relationship since the first day they made themselves an official couple. And at school, no one cared about their relationship. There were still kids that laughed at them and called them names and harassed them, but Brittany didn't care, because she could walk down the hallway holding Santana's hand._

_But she didn't like how they had to hide around Santana's family. They couldn't hold hands, or cuddle, or kiss if Santana's mother or father was in the room. Brittany knew that Santana was afraid to tell them, but she felt like it should happen, at least before they both went off to college in a few months. She owed it to her parents to be honest with them._

"_San?" Brittany voiced in a quiet whisper._

"_Hmmm?" Santana responded sleepily._

"_Can we tell your parents tonight?"_

"_Tell them what, B?"_

"_Tell them about us." Santana tensed above her, as Brittany knew she would._

"_Britt…" She started, but Brittany cut in._

"_Hear me out, Santana. We're graduating in like, a month. And then two months after that, we're going to be in college. In three months, you won't live with your parents anymore. And you should tell them the truth about you, about _us_, before you go. It'll give them three months to adjust to the idea of us being an _us_, and then maybe they'll be fine with it by the time we move into our college dorm."_

"_I don't know, B…"_

"_Wouldn't you be so much happier if they knew? I know I would. I hate sneaking around behind their backs. I hate that we can't be affectionate with each other in front of them. I love you, Tana, and I want to hold your hand, and kiss you, and _show_ them that I love you."_

_Santana stayed still for another minute or so. "Okay B." She said quietly. "We can tell them."_

_Brittany almost jumped for joy. And she probably would have, except Santana was lying on top of her, restricting her movement quite a bit. "You're serious, right San?"_

"_Of course I'm serious."_

_Brittany squealed, and kissed the top of the brunette's head, gripping her even tighter. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! When are we going we do it?"_

"_I think we should do it tonight."_

"…_Are you sure?"_

_Santana shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, I'm going to tell them anyways, and it's better that we do it tonight than in like, a few days, after I've had time to talk myself out of it."_

"_Please don't talk yourself out of it."_

_Santana spun in Brittany's arms so she was lying on top of her, pressing their chests and stomachs together. "We're really telling my family."_

_Brittany kissed her softly. "I guess so."_

"_I don't know whether to be excited or terrified. I feel like I want to throw up, but I can't stop shaking long enough to do it."_

_Brittany kissed her again. "Please don't throw up, San. If you're sick then we can't tell your parents about us."_

"_I won't be sick, Britt." They kissed again. "So, tonight, at dinner. I'll just… I'll just say it. Direct is better, right? I shouldn't sugar coat it."_

"_I like sugar coats."_

_Santana laughed. "Not those kinds of sugar coats, B."_

_Brittany blushed. "Right, of course."_

"_SANTANA! BRITTANY! Dinner's ready!" Angelica called up the stairs._

_Santana's breathing faltered a bit. Brittany stood up and grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers. "We'll do it together, San. I'm right here next to you, and no matter what, I love you."_

_Santana kissed her firmly. "I love you too, Britt. So much…" She took a deep, steadying breath. "Let's do this."_

_The walk from Santana's bedroom to her dining room was the longest of her life. She had never remembered so many stairs being in her house. Her hand was trembling in Brittany's, who was gripping her firmly, trying to comfort the girl as best she could. She was making a valiant effort, but it wasn't having much effect on Santana._

_She didn't let go of Brittany's hand like she usually did when they entered the dining room. She didn't really expect her parents to notice anything. She was Brittany's best friend, after all. Holding hands wouldn't seem that strange in their almost freakishly close relationship._

_Santana stood in the doorway with Brittany right next to her as her father read a newspaper at his seat at the head of the table, and her mother put the last dish on the table._

"_Come along girls, dinner will get cold."_

"_Mami, Papi, can I talk to you for a minute?"_

_Mrs. Lopez brought her head up, looking questioningly at her daughter. Mr. Lopez continued to read the newspaper._

_Angelica's eyes glanced down to Brittany and Santana's grasped hands. Understanding flashed in her eyes, too briefly for Santana to even be sure it was there._

"_What is it, Santana?" Angelica asked, the epitome of calm._

_Santana took a deep breath. "I need to tell you something."_

"_Of course Santana." Mario said without glancing up from the news._

"_Papi, can you put the paper down, for a minute?" Santana asked frantically, finally dropping Brittany's hand._

_Her father looked up, a little surprised, but he did as his daughter asked. "What is it, mija?"_

"_I need to tell you something, something about me. It's important, very important. It's kind of a secret… one that I've kept inside of me for a long time. But I can't keep it a secret anymore." She took a steadying breath. Brittany placed a hand furtively on her back. "I've tried for so long to fight this, and to deny it, and convince myself that it wasn't true, but… it is true. It's happening, and I can't stop it."_

"_Santana are you pregnant?" Mario asked flatly._

"_No, no Papi. It's nothing like that."_

"_Then what is it?"_

_Santana made eye contact with her mother briefly. Angelica looked almost as terrified as Santana felt. Her mother gave a slight, infinitesimal nod, and Santana braced herself. "I'm gay."_

_There was a deafening silence in the house. Santana was sure that they could all hear her racing heart._

"_I'm gay Mami, Papi. As in I'm a lesbian. And I'm in love with Brittany. She's my girlfriend."_

_Still, no one spoke. Santana's heart was beating in her throat. She had never been more terrified in her life than she was right now, standing in front of her mother and father._

_Brittany grabbed her hand, both in support, and as a sign of their relationship. Santana could feel her father's eyes burning straight through the interlocking digits._

"_Papi?" She said quietly. "Say something."_

_Mario cleared his throat. "Is this some sort of joke?"_

_Santana's heart clenched in disappointment. "What are you talking about?"_

"_Is this some sort of sick joke, Santana? You know better than to put your mother and me through this. It's not fair to us Santana, and this is horribly selfish."_

"_It's not a joke!"_

_He scoffed. "Please, Santana Maria. You are _not_ gay. I could never raise a daughter to be gay. Is this another way of getting my attention? You tell us that your best friend is actually your _girlfriend_? This is a new low, even for you, Santana Lopez."_

_Santana was fuming. "I'm not joking, Papi! I'm dating Brittany. I'm in love with her. I'm _gay_."_

_Mario stood up from his place, toppling his chair over with a loud _CRASH!_ "You are _not_ gay, Santana! I can't have raised _this!_"_

"_Papi, this wasn't you. This is how I was _born_."_

_Mario shook his head over and over again. "You're not gay, Santana."_

_Santana's free hand clenched. "Yes I _am_ Papi!"_

"_No you're not."_

_Santana looked around the room frantically, upset and angry, trying to find a way to tell her father that this wasn't just a passing fad. She grabbed the back of Brittany's head and brought their lips crashing together in a heated kiss. Brittany couldn't stop herself from kissing Santana back._

"_ENOUGH!" Mario roared, slamming his fist down on the table, making the dishes crash together._

_The two girls jumped apart._

_Mario was fuming. "Santana Maria Lopez, get out of my house. I want you to leave, and never come back."_

_Angelica was sitting at the table, crying._

"_What? WHY?"_

_Mario looked like he was going to punch something. "I will not have this kind of _sin_ in my household. God does not like it, and I do not like it. You can have thirty minutes to grab your things, and then I want you gone."_

"_You can't just get rid of me! I'm you _daughter_!"_

_He stared at her hard for a few long moments. "I don't have a daughter." Santana physically recoiled from those words._

"_You can't say that to me, Papi! I'm still your daughter. I'm the same person I was two minutes ago!"_

"_No, you are not. _She _corrupted you. She ruined you." He said, pointing at Brittany._

"_Don't talk to her that way!" Santana yelled at her father._

"_I WILL SPEAK HOWEVER I DAMN WELL WANT TO IN MY OWN HOUSE! YOU DO NOT GET A SAY IN THIS, SANTANA! I WANT YOU OUT OF MY HOUSE!"_

_Santana backed away from her father's rapidly approaching figure._

_Brittany was terrified. It was written all over her face. She was terrified, and she was horribly upset at the same time._

_She jumped in front of Santana, pushing the shorter girl behind her back to try and protect her. "No, Mr. Lopez. Don't do that, please. You don't mean it. I'll leave. I'll go, I'll leave forever. Just don't make Santana leave." She sobbed, standing between his furious body and his daughter's cowering one. His wife was crying softly in the background, too afraid to say anything._

_Santana was fierce, adamant, and terrified. "You can't leave me Britt, not like this. I can't live without you. Please, I love you too much. You're my family, Britt. You can't leave."_

_Brittany reached a hand behind her and grasped Santana's tightly. "I won't leave you."_

"_Both of you are filth, _abominations_. You're no longer a part of this family."_

"_Please, Papi." Santana begged. "Don't do this."_

"_It's either her, or us."_

_Santana blinked. "What?"_

"_You heard me." He said firmly. "If you never see her again, stop with all this… _nonsense_… talk to our preacher, a specialist, get yourself back to normal, you can be a part of this family again."_

"_You're asking me to choose between my family and the girl I love?" She asked, incredulous._

"_You're not in love, Santana. Whatever it is she's brainwashed you with, promised you, it isn't worth an eternity in Hell. You have time to rectify this. We won't ever speak of it again, if you never see _her_ again."_

_Santana shook her head. "I'm gay, Papi. With or without Brittany, I will _always_ be gay. You can't '_fix_' me. There's nothing wrong with me. And I'm staying with Brittany. I love her more than anything."_

_Mario bristled. "Then you've made your choice, haven't you? Thirty minutes Santana. If you're not gone by then, I'll call the police."_

_Mario turned on his heel and stormed out of the house._

_Angelica couldn't make eye contact with her daughter. She desperately wanted to hold her, to comfort her, to stand up for her, but she couldn't. She was terrified of her husband at times. She was a coward, and she knew it._

_She got up from her seat, her eyes streaming with tears._

"_Mami," Santana managed to choke out, "Mami, please."_

_Angelica walked away from her daughter that day. It ruined any chance of a relationship between the two women, in just a few seconds._

_When her mother walked away from her, Santana felt like she should have cried. But she couldn't. She was numb._

_She and Brittany moved mechanically, gathering her things together in boxes, bags, suitcases; anything they could carry or thought Santana might need came with them. Twenty-seven minutes later they were leaving the house, for what Santana thought would be the last time._

_She still hadn't cried, or said a word since shouting at her father. They loaded the things into Brittany's car and drove back to the Pierce house._

_It wasn't until Brittany stopped in front of her house that Santana broke. And once the gates opened, they couldn't close. Santana sobbed. She cried as if she had lost everything in the world, because she had. She had lost everything except Brittany._

_Santana was crying so hard that she couldn't get out of the car. Brittany hurried over to her girlfriend's side and pulled open the car door. She unbuckled Santana, and effortlessly lifted her into her arms. Holding the smaller girl securely, Brittany brought her into the house._

"_Brittany?" Gordon asked when he saw Brittany enter with Santana curled in her grip. "What's wrong? What happened?"_

_Brittany just shook her head. "Tomorrow." Was all she said before bringing Santana up the stairs._

_She tucked the girl into her own bed and slid in after her, holding her tightly. It was then that Brittany let her own tears fall._

_Santana sobbed uncontrollably into the blonde girl's shirt._

_Brittany stroked her back and whispered into her ear, telling her that everything would be okay, when she had no idea how _anything_ could ever be okay again. But she had to believe it. She had to think, to _hope_ that it would get better, because it was killing her to see Santana so broken._

_She needed the fiery girl that she had fallen in love with back. She needed _her_ Santana. She only hoped that that Santana was still in there._

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Mario woke up from the dream sweating. In his version, he had only gotten as far as _'If you're not gone by then, I'll call the police.'_

He was crying silently to himself, afraid of waking up his wife. He didn't like remembering that night. It brought back so many horrible memories of his childhood, of the _real_ reason he wasn't okay with Santana's new life.

His religion was only a small factor. It was easiest to blame his prejudice and hate on the Bible, because the alternative was almost impossible to think about. He was a religious man, and it bothered him that Santana was doing something God didn't believe in. But the truth was, most of the time, he couldn't care less about God.

The truth was that Mario had lost all faith in God that one summer when he was fifteen. That summer he lost his brother.

He turned his head away from his wife. Even if she was asleep, he was embarrassed to let her see him crying. He didn't want her to see his weakness. Mario took a few deep, steadying breaths, and allowed himself, for the first time in years, to think about his older brother, the man he had looked up to more than anything.

It was cruel the way he was taken from him, the way he was taken from their family.

Mario never talked about it; he rarely even allowed himself to think about it. But he was already so tired, emotionally and physically, that he just couldn't stop it.

He cried and cried, unaware that a few blocks away his daughter was awakening from the same nightmare.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana woke up shaking with tears streaming down her face.

Brittany woke up when she heard Santana's choked back sobs. "San?" She asked sleepily. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing Britt." She said with a thick voice. "It's all good."

"Santana." Brittany said, rolling over so she was face to face with the other girl. "What's wrong? What were you dreaming about, honey?"

Santana's tears were almost dry, but upon recalling her dream, they started fresh again. "It was the same one." She said quietly.

Brittany immediately softened. "The same nightmare? The one with your dad?"

"It's not just a nightmare, Britt. It's a memory. That makes it so much worse."

Brittany kissed her softly. "It's alright, San. You never have to go through that again. I'm so sorry I pushed you to tell them that night."

Santana shook her head. "You have to stop apologizing for that, B. I told you, if I hadn't told them that night, I would have done it a few weeks later, and it would have happened exactly the same way. Telling them when I did just let me see how horrible my family was that much earlier."

Brittany shook her head. "Your family isn't horrible. Your dad was just raised a certain way. He's like a little kid, San. He doesn't know any better."

Santana took a deep breath of Brittany's scent, too tired to talk about this anymore. "Can we just go to sleep, Britt?"

Brittany nodded. "Of course."

"Can you hold me?"

Brittany smiled as Santana rolled over. She slipped her arms around the other girl's waist, tangling their legs, spooning her girlfriend.

"Thank you." Santana whispered.

"I love you." Brittany whispered, kissing Santana lightly on her cheek.

"I love you more."

Brittany smiled. "Impossible."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, and I make no money off of these stories.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N****: **_**THIS IS NOT MY ORIGINAL STORY!**_** The ideas, as well as the first few sections, come from the author **1964-2010**. I adopted the story, edited it, and added onto it **_**WITH THE AUTHOR'S PERMISSION.**_

**If you want to read that story, (just a heads up, it's incomplete), it can be found here:**

**.net/s/7424796/1/A_Matter_of_Miserable_Time**

**Thank you so much to the wonderful **1964-2010** for allowing me to take this incredible story and make it my own. You deserve all the credit for this amazing story idea, though most of the words are my own. Thank you and enjoy!**

A Matter of Miserable Time

"Santana? Brittany?" Someone whispered close to Santana's ear. "Are you two naked?"

Santana swatted at the noise. "Go away." She grumbled, snuggling closer to her girlfriend.

The voice laughed. "Come on you two, get up. There's someone here to see you."

Santana groaned. Brittany chuckled and wiped some of the sleep from her eyes. "But who would want to see us? Santana hates everybody."

"Ahaha. Very funny, B." Santana grunted, shoving her face further into the pillow as Brittany stood up from the bed.

"Ah good, you aren't naked." Katie said, smiling in appreciation. "Like I said, there's someone here to see you."

"Who is it?" Brittany asked, combing her fingers through her hair. "It's like, 9 in the morning on a Tuesday. Plus, I don't think Santana really wants to see anyone. Can't you just tell them to go away?"

A blonde stuck their head through the door. "Well that's no way to greet your best friend."

Brittany shrieked. "QUINN!" She leapt out of bed and jumped the blonde girl, enveloping her in a tight hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Well I seem to recall that I came for a visit with my two best friends. One of them got a distressing phone call, and when I came to their door the next day, no one was there."

Brittany smacked her forehead. "Santana, we forgot to tell Quinn we were leaving!"

Santana moaned from the bed. "Didn't you ever think that we did that on purpose, Q?"

Quinn scoffed. "You're lucky I've got excellent powers of deduction, and that your sister is a contact on my phone. Now get your lazy ass out of bed, Santana Lopez, and come give me a hug, because I bought a plane ticket all the way out here just to see you."

Santana sighed, but managed to extract herself from the blankets and hug Quinn. "It's good to see you Q, really. I'm sorry we didn't tell you."

Quinn shrugged. "Whatever. I just can't believe you're back in Lima. And God, Santana, I'm so sorry. Katie told me about your mom and the fight with your dad."

Santana sighed. "I don't really want to talk about it Q, is that okay?"

Quinn nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry. So what have you been doing? You know Puckerman's in town, right?"

Brittany grinned. "We know, Mr. Schue told us."

"You saw Mr. Schue? That's awesome! I miss that guy…"

"So did we. We saw him yesterday. It was great. But what about you? You just bought a plane ticket to Lima, Ohio because you missed your friends? You know we both have working cell phones." Brittany said.

"I know Britt. But it's been so long since I was home; I figured I might as well kill two birds with one stone."

Brittany gasped and covered her mouth. "You're killing innocent birds?"

Santana moved behind her girlfriend and kissed her softly on the cheek. "It's just an expression, B. I'm sure Quinn isn't trying to kill anything."

Quinn shook her head solemnly. "Of course not. I wouldn't dare try and kill anything, except maybe Puckerman, if he keeps checking out my ass every time we see him."

Brittany laughed. "Puck checks everyone out."

"I know. But I at least thought that being in college would make him grow up, or something."

Santana grinned. "Are you kidding? College is a wet dream for guys like Puck. There are girls running around everywhere, all breaking up with their high school boyfriends, and look who it is! Noah Puckerman, there to save the day. I'm sure he's getting more action than he _ever_ has."

Quinn sighed. "I can't believe I ever found that attractive."

"I can't believe you ever found Frankenteen attractive."

"Hey, he was a football player."

"So was Puck."

"Why are we even talking about this, Santana? You're _gay_."

Santana winked at Quinn before pulling Brittany in for a passionate kiss. Quinn groaned and averted her eyes. "I'm so _very_ gay, Q, you're right."

"Okay, get your libido in check, Lopez. I need some coffee."

"Sure, let us just get dressed first."

Quinn walked over to Brittany's bed and sat down. Santana stared at her. "What, you're not going to leave while we strip off our clothes? You sure you're not gay, Quinn?"

"You're funny, Santana." Quinn deadpanned. "But I'm not stupid. You think I'm gonna leave the room while you two 'strip off your clothes'? There's a bed in here. If I left, you two would be 'changing' for another twenty minutes."

Brittany scoffed. "Twenty minutes? Please Quinn, give me some credit."

"Okay, gross." Katie said from over by the door. "I'm leaving, before any more talk about my sister's sex life gets out. I'll see you all in a few minutes." She left the room quickly.

"No Katie, come back!" Quinn called. "Don't leave me alone in a room with the two of them! They'll try and convert me!"

Santana snorted. "Please. We know a lost cause when we see one. You're just too straight to be gay. Plus, I'm really not looking to share Brittany with anyone."

Quinn looked relieved. "Finally! After three years of making lesbian jokes about me, you two _finally_ accept that I'll never be gay."

Brittany shrugged and pulled off her shirt. "That's not true, Quinn. I don't think you'll _never_ be gay. I mean, I saw you checking out Santana a few times in the Cheerio locker room when we were in high school."

Quinn blushed, and Santana smirked. "Really, Q?"

Quinn shook her head, and stuttered, "No… that's not… I didn't…"

Santana laughed. "Relax Quinn, she's messing with you." Brittany shot Quinn a wink.

"Don't do that. It's not funny."

"I find it hilarious." Santana said, looking at her girlfriend. She couldn't stop staring at Brittany's underwear-clad body as the blonde girl dug through her drawers for some clothes.

"Hey Santana," Quinn called, "Stop checking out Brittany's ass. We'll never get out of here at this rate."

"Shut it Quinn. I'm allowed to look all I want. She's my girlfriend, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is. Your girlfriend that's trying to get dressed, like you should be."

Brittany was grumbling under her breath, and at the break in the conversation, her words could be made out. "None of this stuff fits me anymore. I took all my good clothes to New York; and the ones that that I brought and that fit are at Santana's house."

"Come on B, there must be _something_ in there that you can wear. And that I can wear, because I'm certainly not going out like this." She said, gesturing down at her 'Lebanese' tee-shirt and underwear.

Quinn glanced at the shirt and chuckled. "Definitely keep the shirt, Santana. It suits you." Santana rolled her eyes. "I'm being serious. It's a great shirt."

Quinn bent down and pulled a pair of jeans off the floor. "Here, you wear these. They're Britt's, I think. Brittany, go across the hall into Katie's room and grab a dress." She tossed the dark jeans to Santana, who started to pull them on as Brittany left the room.

Santana was pulling a brush through her hair when Quinn said something. "Have I mentioned recently how great your relationship is?"

Santana shook her head, now applying some mascara.

"Well it's amazing. I'm really happy for the two of you. And you know you're really not a bitch at all now that you can hold her hand in public."

Santana smiled softly. "Thanks Q. You know, you're actually pretty cool when you're not crazy off of pregnancy hormones."

"And the bitch is back." Quinn said teasingly, making eye contact with Santana through the mirror above Brittany's dresser.

"But seriously Quinn, thank you."

Quinn smiled. "Of course. I'm glad we're still friends."

"So am I. I don't meet a lot of people that can deal with my crazy."

Brittany came bouncing back into the room in a light blue dress that came down to mid-thigh and that brought out her eyes. As she scuttled around looking for shoes, Quinn got off of the bed and went over to Santana, under the pretense of borrowing some eye shadow.

"Except Brittany." She whispered.

Santana watched her girlfriend dance and fly around, and couldn't help but smile. "Except Brittany." She agreed.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

The Lima Bean wasn't crowded. It was around 9:30 on a school day, so the usual crowd of high school kids was nowhere to be seen.

After getting their coffees, the three women sat at an open booth. Santana was holding Brittany's hand on the table.

"So when are you going back to your house?" Quinn asked, sipping her coffee.

Santana sighed. "I don't know. I think I'll give my dad a little more time to cool off before I jump back into the house, you know? I can't stay at Britt's forever, obviously, but I'm not exactly in a hurry to get home."

"What about your mom?"

"You know, I don't actually know. I'm not sure when she's going into the hospital for her treatment or anything."

"Don't you think that's something we should find out?" Brittany asked softly.

Santana nodded. "We'll stop by today and talk to her."

"Lopez?"

Santana whipped around and was suddenly face-to-face with Noah Puckerman, in all his mohawked glory.

"Puck!" She jumped out of the booth and hugged him tightly.

He laughed. "I thought I heard your voice! How are you? What are you doing back in Lima?"

"What are _you_ doing back in Lima? I thought you were making it big in California. You know, no surfer left unturned or something like that."

Puck shrugged. "I missed some of the small-town flavor. You can't get that back in California."

Santana made a face. "Are you kidding? I'd _kill _for a life like that. Hell, I'd have sex with _Finn_ for that."

"Ready to dump me so easily Santana?" Brittany teased, standing up to hug Puck. Quinn got up as well, and embraced their old friend.

"It's good to see you Britt, and you, Quinn. So, you and Lopez are still going strong, I gather?" He asked, smiling happily.

Santana grabbed Brittany's hand. "You bet."

"You know if you ever want a third person… I'm just a phone call away."

Santana snorted. "A phone call and a whole continent away."

Brittany shot her a look. "And we don't want to be having sex with Puck, right?" She asked, a little confused.

"That's right B. Puck just wishes we still wanted to have sex with him."

"Actually, I kinda do."

Brittany smiled, somewhat menacingly. "You touch her Puck, and I'll shave your mohawk off." She teased.

Puck laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. "I get it, Britt. No touching of the Lopez." He winked at her. "But seriously, it's great to see you. Where are you staying?"

"My house."

Puck blinked at Santana. "But I thought you weren't talking to your dad?"

Santana nodded. "I'm not. We slept at Brittany's last night. But technically, we're at my house. My mom's kinda sick."

Puck suddenly pulled Santana up into another tight hug. "I know, I heard. I am so sorry, Santana. My mom told me about it. If you need anything, literally anything, just call me."

"Thanks Puck. I will."

"Hey, so I'm having a party at my place on Friday."

Santana rolled her eyes. "What are we, seventeen?"

Puck laughed. "Look, you don't have to come, but I'm inviting all the old Glee kids. Most of them are on summer break already, and I thought we could have a little reunion. Don't worry, there won't be any high schoolers there. They're probably too busy studying for finals to even _want_ to show up. Anyways, it would be great if you would be there. Literally, like, _everybody's_ coming."

"Finnocence and the hobbit too?" Santana asked.

Puck smirked. "Yeah, Rachel and Finn are coming."

Santana groaned.

"San, I thought you liked Rachel." Brittany said, looking confused.

"I like Rachel when she's singing on a Broadway stage, and getting us into famous after-parties. But when I have to hear her speak…"

"Santana…." Brittany whined.

Santana sighed. "Alright Puck, we'll be there."

Puck pumped his fist. "Yes! Alright, I gotta go, I promised my mom I'd pick up the dry cleaning."

"Aww, you're so domesticated." Santana teased.

"Hey, fuck you Lopez. I can still kick your ass."

"You wish, Puckerman."

He hugged them all one last time. "I'll see you on Friday!" He called as he ducked out of the shop.

"Make sure there's alcohol there! I can't deal with RuPaul without alcohol!" Santana called after him.

"You don't really hate Rachel, do you San?" Brittany asked with a pout on her face.

Santana kissed her softly. "Of course I don't. I love Rachel now. I just don't want Puck to know that. I have to keep up my street cred, you know?" She teased.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "You wanna know a secret?" She asked, conspiratorially. Santana nodded. "I don't think you ever really hated her."

Santana pondered that for a moment. "No, I guess I never really did."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Mario had to go into the hospital today. He wasn't there with his wife; she was still at home. She was spending as much time in her own bed as possible, because in three days, she'd be living at the hospital.

Mario had to go to the hospital because he was a doctor there. And despite how tired he was, and how emotionally bent out of shape, he had patients that needed him and relied on him.

Sometimes he hated his job.

Right now, he loved it.

Working with his hands didn't give him any time to think about his daughter and her… _girlfriend_. He took a deep, shuddering breath as he thought the word. At least he could think about it now.

He needed to focus on his job. That's one of the reasons he was here today, wasn't it? So that he could focus completely on doing what he was best at, and completely avoiding his feelings. That was another thing he was good at.

He took a deep breath. In three days he would be spending all his time here, with his wife, and not as a doctor. He hated hospitals.

It was a little strange to think about, wasn't it? A man that hated hospitals worked in one. But it's true. He became a doctor so that he could save people's lives, not sit around and watch them end. As long as he was working towards a goal, and trying his hardest to save lives, he didn't have to think about the first time he was in the hospital as a bystander.

The most recent time was the birth of his daughter. He didn't mind hospitals so much on that day. However, if he knew the kind of pain that daughter would cause them in the future… the kind of pain _he _would cause _her_… he might have been more anxious that day than any other time in his life. He wouldn't change it for anything, though.

The first time he was in the hospital, he had to watch his older brother die. Or, that wasn't quite accurate, because he was dead before he even made it through the door.

It had been hard to believe. How could someone so lively, so very much enjoying life, commit suicide, just out of the blue? Mario hadn't understood it then, and he certainly didn't understand it now.

He shook himself. He couldn't be thinking about that now. Not when he was about to cut into a woman's stomach. No, his brother, and his daughter, and his wife, would all have to wait outside the operating room until he was ready to deal with them.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Quinn had gone back to her house. She figured Brittany and Santana needed some alone time with Santana's family. Truth be told, neither girl would have minded if Quinn had stuck around. She would have been another buffer for them.

But upon entering her house, Santana realized she didn't need a buffer at all. "Mami, Papi?" She called into the silent house.

There was scuffling coming from upstairs, and Angelica hurried down the stairs.

"Mija, I'm so glad you're here." She hugged Santana and Brittany tightly. "How is your family, Brittany?"

"They're doing well, thanks Angelica. My sister's crazy nervous about applying for college."

Mrs. Lopez smiled. "Well, she's so very smart, I'm sure she has nothing to worry about. Give them my best when you see them again, yes?"

"Of course."

"So what are you girls doing back here?"

"Is Papi around?" Santana asked quickly.

Angelica shook her head. "He's down at the hospital."

Santana sighed. She wasn't sure if it was in disappointment or relief. She was leaning towards relief. Santana grinned at her mother. "We came to take you out to lunch, anywhere you want."

Angelica's eyes widened. "Oh, I don't know about that, girls. We have plenty of food here…"

Santana scoffed. "Please, Mami. It's my treat. Plus, I haven't had Breadstix in like, three years."

Angelica laughed. "So the truth comes out. I knew this wasn't all about me, Santana Lopez."

Brittany nudged her girlfriend, attempting to scold her, but she had a grin spread across her features, too.

"Come on Mami. It'll be nice. Plus, you're going into the hospital soon, right?" Angelica nodded. "So we need to get as much good food in you as possible!" She said brightly.

"You should know better than to fight Santana when she's got Breadstix on her mind, Angelica." Brittany said with a small smile on her face.

Mrs. Lopez sighed. "Well alright then…"

Santana whopped and grabbed one of her mother's arms. Brittany took the other.

The ride to the restaurant was pleasant. Brittany and Santana kept Angelica entertained with stories about their college friends, and the people who lived in the dorm room next to theirs when they were freshmen.

"So, they were both girls, and they both had boyfriends, which you can imagine, got _incredibly_ awkward. So, when one girl would have her boyfriend over, the other wasn't allowed to even touch the _door_. I think it was harder for Charlie, because her boyfriend lived farther away, and Emma's was in Buffalo. So whenever Emma's boyfriend was over, Charlie would come over to our room.

"Of course," Santana continued with a sly grin, "she didn't know that Britts and I were in a relationship, so one day she walked in on us… uh… kissing…. And she got pretty pissed. Not that we were… kissing… but that we hadn't told her about us. It was weird, actually having one of our friends mad at us for _not_ telling her we were lesbians." Santana shrugged.

Angelica was smiling softly, and Brittany was giggling at the memory. "As lovely as it is to hear about your friends, mija, do you really need to tell stories about you and Brittany… kissing…?"

Santana blushed.

"But I thought you already knew all about our fu…"

"BRITTANY!" Santana said loudly, cutting her off.

"I was going to say fun times." Brittany said quietly.

Angelica chuckled.

Santana reached across the seat and gripped Brittany's hand apologetically, keeping her eyes on the road. "I'm sorry, B." She said quietly.

"It's fine Tana, really."

"We're here!" Angelica said excitedly.

Santana glanced curiously at her mother in the rearview mirror as she pulled into the parking lot. "Since when are you so excited to be going to Breadstix?"

Angelica shrugged. "I haven't been here since you still lived at home."

"Wow. Why didn't you ever go with Dad?" Santana asked as she pulled into a parking space.

They all got out of the car as Angelica said, "He didn't like coming here. He said there were too many memories."

Santana tensed, but Brittany grabbed her hand and rubbed the back of it soothingly. Santana's shoulders released their tension, and she slumped forwards a little bit. Angelica was tactful enough to pretend like she hadn't noticed.

Upon entering the restaurant and being shown to a table, Santana realized that it hadn't changed. Like, literally, it hadn't changed at _all_.

This was surprising for Santana. She would have thought, what with all the little kids in here throwing spaghetti around every night, they'd need to repaint. But no, it was still the slightly classy, slightly trashy establishment it had always been.

She still had the menu memorized. Santana and Brittany didn't even bother opening theirs up.

They sat on one bench, and Angelica sat across from them, leisurely perusing her choices. Santana's left hand was gripped in Brittany's right, under the table.

It wasn't that they were being secretive, because they weren't. They hadn't been secretive about their relationship in years. They didn't care about the looks people gave them, or the way parents would mutter to their kids not to stare. It didn't bother them.

But something about being in this restaurant, in this town, with her mother, of all people… it made Santana uneasy.

That was part of the reason she wasn't letting Brittany use her dominant hand. Eating was sure to be a hassle.

"So when do you go in?" Brittany asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Thursday."

Santana's eyes bulged. "This Thursday?" She asked quietly.

Angelica nodded. "I'm going in Thursday for my prep, and then I'll be under all day Friday."

"Do you want us to be there with you?"

"No no, mija. There's no point in that, is there? I won't be conscious. Plus, your father will be there."

"But…"

"No buts. I heard Noah's having a party on Friday night, and I want both of you to go."

"How did you hear about that?" Santana asked in wonderment. "Britt and I only found out about it this morning."

Angelica smiled secretively at her daughter. "I have friends in the neighborhood too, Santana."

Santana didn't press it any further.

"Won't Dad be mad that we'll be at a party while you're getting surgery?"

"I'll talk to him about it. Don't worry, he shouldn't be mad. And if he is… well, I've already warned him, haven't I?"

"You shouldn't divorce him, Angelica." Brittany said softly.

Angelica smiled at her. "That's very sweet of you, dear, but really, he can't expect me to choose between him and my daughter. I'll always love him, but I don't want to miss any more of your life together."

"But you've been with Papi for so long. Almost thirty years."

"Santana, you don't have children. I know it's hard for you to understand, but your father's stubbornness is tearing this family apart. I missed three years with you two, I won't risk missing anything else. Who knows what big things are in your future?" She asked with a wink.

Santana exchanged a confused look with Brittany. "What does that mean?"

"Well, you've been together for almost four years, right?" Brittany and Santana nodded simultaneously. "I'm just saying, you might be headed towards the next step in your relationship, and I would absolutely kill myself if I missed that."

"But we already live together…" Brittany said, confused.

Santana leaned in and whispered, a dark blush prominent across her cheeks, "I think she's talking about us getting married, Brittany."

"We're getting married?" Brittany whispered back.

"I don't think so. Not anytime soon."

"Oh." Santana couldn't help but notice that Brittany sounded a little dejected.

"What's up, Britt?"

"Well, I kind of want to marry you." Brittany said quietly.

Santana glanced at her mother. Angelica was taking a sip of her water and doing a very good job at appearing distracted by the people in the restaurant.

"Don't you think we should talk about this later B? Like, in private?"

Brittany nodded quickly. "Of course, of course. I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?"

Santana held her hand a little tighter. "Of course not, sweetie."

Just then the waiter approached, and took their orders. As she left, the table was pulled into a happy silence. Santana felt little butterflies in her stomach that certainly weren't there a few minutes ago.

Brittany wanted to marry her. She bit her lip to hide a smile. Brittany wanted to marry her.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

"Do you girls want to come back to the house tonight, or are you going to spend another night at Brittany's?"

Santana shared a look with Brittany, and they had a silent conversation that Angelica caught absolutely none of. "I think we're gonna wait another night. Just give him some more time to… think… you know?"

Angelica nodded. "Don't let him push you away from us, Santana."

"I won't Mami, I promise. It's just… this brought back some painful memories for me."

"For him too."

Santana blinked at her mother. "What do you mean?"

"He cried last night, Santana. He woke up sobbing."

Santana gaped at her mother, and then glanced over at Brittany, who was wearing a similar expression. In her whole life, Santana had never seen her father cry.

"He… he what?"

"This hurt him too, Santana, more than he cared to admit. He hated what he did to you. He regretted it the instant it happened. And he doesn't like to think that I know. You know his thing about showing weakness."

"If he hated it so much, then why didn't he do anything about it?" Santana asked, outraged.

"He was too proud, Santana. You know your father. He's stubborn as an ox, and that can be very good, but sometimes it hurts a lot of people. And you know his religious views. He missed you, he missed both of you, but he couldn't just ignore his whole childhood."

"But why was he crying?"

"You coming back brought back some painful memories for him, too." Santana opened her mouth to say something, but her mother cut in quickly. "I know that he was the one that pushed you away, but it still hurts him to remember how he treated you. And he has other reasons… deeper reasons for feeling the way he does. Don't ask me, because I don't know the whole story, and besides, it's not my story to tell. When your father is ready, he'll tell you."

Santana sat in silence, thinking deeply.

Angelica smiled at the two of them. "Thank you for lunch girls, it was wonderful. I think we should head home now though, don't you? I have a few last minute things to do."

Santana nodded and stood up from the table with her fingers still linked through Brittany's. "We'll stop by tomorrow. And… maybe we'll stay. I'm going to need new clothes soon, anyways."

Angelica nodded and smiled. "I really like that shirt, Santana."

Santana blushed and straightened it so that the letters were straighter.

"You never would have worn something like that in high school."

"There are a lot of things I never would have done in high school."

He mother chuckled. "Good point. But really mija, I'm so glad that you're open about your relationship. I was very proud of you that night when you told us. I was _so_ proud of you."

Santana smiled sadly. The old Santana would have snapped at her mother, mentioning how she had walked away, and pushed her aside all those years ago. But Santana was not in high school anymore. So she just smiled, and didn't ruin the perfectly good afternoon they had just had.

Brittany squeezed her hand tightly. She knew what Santana could have done, and her heart swelled at the thought that her girlfriend was trying, _really_ trying, to be nicer to her family. That kind of thing went a long way in Brittany's mind.

Santana drove her mother back to the family house. Mrs. Lopez kissed both girls softly on the cheek as she was leaving. "Thank you, really girls. You don't know how much I've missed days like this."

Brittany and Santana nodded. They had missed them too.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Mom."

"Bye, Angelica."

Angelica waved as she entered the house. Santana put the car in gear and drove back to Brittany's. The car was silent, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

It had been a while since Santana had felt like this; felt really at ease with the world.

When the car stopped, the girls got out, and headed to Brittany's front door.

"Are your parents home?" Santana asked quietly. Brittany shook her head.

The second the door was closed behind them, Santana was shoving Brittany against it, attacking her fiercely. Their lips crashed together, tongues battling; releasing the tension Santana had felt all day. She _needed_ Brittany. The blonde girl had been so sweet, so understanding these past few days, and Santana appreciated it. She was more in love with Brittany now than ever before. And she desperately needed to show her girlfriend.

Santana will never know how they made it up the stairs. Afterwards, she would wonder where each article of her and Brittany's clothing was. Most likely there was a trail from the front hall to Brittany's bed. She would go clean it up, Santana told herself. But she knew it was a lie. Nothing could pull her out of bed with Brittany.

They lay in the bed, basking in the afterglow of the last- Santana checked Brittany's clock- hour and ten minutes. She couldn't stop a satisfied smirk from appearing on her face. _'Twenty minutes my ass, Q'_ she thought to herself smugly.

Brittany smiled sleepily, her eyes closed, as she traced shapes on Santana's naked torso. Santana shivered as Brittany's long fingers brushed a sensitive spot above her hip.

"What are you smiling at?" Brittany whispered.

"Just thinking about how Quinn _seriously_ underestimates us."

Brittany laughed and kissed the top of Santana's head. "That was amazing, San."

Santana smiled into Brittany's shoulder and bit it lightly. "Yeah, it really was."

"When was the last time we had sex in my bed?"

Santana chuckled, thinking back. "Oh gee, I don't know. I guess the night before we left for college."

Brittany smiled fondly at the memory. "That was a good night."

"I could hardly walk the next day. Your sister kept giving me weird looks."

Brittany chuckled again. "I'm sleepy, San." She said quietly, yawning widely, as if to emphasize her statement.

"I am too. Hey Britt?"

"Hmmm?"

"Nothing. I'm just… really happy."

Brittany finally cracked her eyes. She smiled down at her girlfriend, meeting the brown eyes she had come to memorize over the past sixteen years of knowing Santana. "So am I." They kissed sweetly.

"Brittany?"

"Yeah San?"

Santana twirled an extra strand of Brittany's blonde hair around her finger, suddenly a little nervous. "Did you mean what you said earlier?"

Brittany's brow furrowed in confusion, trying to think back to everything she had said that day. "I said a lot of things, Tana…"

"The thing you said at Breadstix. You know… about wanting us to get married." She finished in a small voice.

"I…has this been bothering you?"

Santana shrugged, not answering. Brittany correctly interpreted that to mean 'yes'.

"I'm sorry Santana. I didn't mean to upset you. I know you like taking your time with these things, and I didn't mean to try and push you. You know I'd wait forever and a day for you."

"I know, Britt. And you didn't upset me."

"Well I'm sorry I said it."

Santana's head drooped a little. "So you didn't mean it?"

Brittany shook her head. "I didn't say that. I completely meant it. I _do_ want to marry you Santana. I've always wanted to marry you."

It was quiet for a few seconds. "I want to marry you too."

Brittany froze. "Are you proposing to me?"

"God no! That would literally be the world's worst proposal." Both girls chuckled.

"Good." Brittany said. "Because I think if _that_ was you asking me to marry you, I might have had to turn you down, just on principle."

"Look Britt, don't get me wrong, I would love nothing more than to marry you someday. But I'm not ready. We're both still in college, and my mom's sick… I'm not ready to be engaged."

"Me either. Plus that's like, a really serious step… and still illegal in Ohio."

Santana groaned. "I don't even want to think about that."

"Sorry." Brittany whispered.

Santana sat up in the bed, the sheet falling away and leaving her upper body bare. Brittany couldn't help but gape. She must have seen Santana like this hundreds of times; thousands, even. But still, she got butterflies every time she looked, _really _looked, at her louder, snarkier half.

"You didn't do anything wrong Britt. But… yeah, I'm not ready to get married."

"We're not going to get married Santana." Brittany said, a little amused.

"Don't say it like that."

"We're not going to get married _yet_, Santana."

Santana bent down and kissed Brittany softly. "Much better."

"I love you." Brittany whispered.

"I love you too."

"Will you still be here when I wake up?"

Santana smiled. "I'm here forever, Britt."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

There was a sharp knocking on Brittany's bedroom door. Brittany moaned and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. "San…" She groaned, "door."

Santana grunted, but stood up. She slid one of Brittany's extra-long sleep shirts over her head and stumbled towards the loud rapping sound. In her half-awake state of mind, it didn't register that she was in Brittany's old house, and old room, in Lima. For a moment she thought she was back in their apartment in New York.

That being said, she probably answered the door with a little more venom than was strictly necessary. "What is it?" She asked, pulling the door open and rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

She was met with a wide-eyed Katie, who was still holding her hand up, poised to knock again.

Santana's eyes bugged out and she tugged the shirt down a little lower on her legs. She ran a hand through her hair, attempting to tame it, and cleared her throat. She knew she looked like she'd just had sex. Katie knew it too.

"What's up, Katie?"

Katie smiled ruefully. "You're lucky it was me, and not Mom and Dad."

"But… they know about us…"

Katie shrugged. "I don't think that means that they'd be okay with knowing that like, an hour ago, you were boning their daughter."

Santana blushed crimson. "Okay, seriously, how old are you?"

Katie laughed. "Look, I was just looking out for you. I brought your clothes." She held them out in her hand. Santana turned even darker, and grabbed them, throwing them into the room. She'd find them later.

"You need to be more careful about where you drop your… uh… pants, I guess. I almost broke my neck tripping over them just now."

"Thanks Katie." Santana said, keeping her gaze down.

Katie smiled. "Just doing my sisterly duty. Though, I do find it impressive that Brittany managed to get you out of _all_ of your clothes before you even pulled her dress off of her."

"Do you need anything else, Katie?" Santana asked quickly, biting her lip.

Katie shook her head. "Nope. Just saying hey."

"Maybe next time you could call?"

"I did. Five times. You must have seriously worn her out."

"I thought you didn't like to think about this. Didn't you practically sprint out of the room this morning?"

"Well… yeah, but that was Britt saying it, wasn't it?"

Santana just blinked at Katie, thoroughly confused.

"It's a sibling thing."

"Gotcha."

Katie glanced at her watch. "Mom and Dad should be home in about two hours. I'll knock on the door thirty minutes before, so you guys can shower. Go back to sleep, Santana."

"Why are you being so cool about this?"

"I told you, just doing my sisterly duty."

"Well still, thanks. I'll tell Brittany." Santana moved to close the door, but Katie stuck her hand out and stopped her.

"I was talking about you, Santana."

Santana furrowed her brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I was doing my sisterly duty for _you_ Santana. You should know by now that you're just as much of a sister to me as Brittany is; sometimes more so. Remember when I was thirteen? Britt and I would have killed each other without you. You're my sister, Santana, no matter how the rest of the world sees it."

Santana's eyes filled with tears. She wiped at them, before pulling Katie up into a tight hug. She laughed, a little bit strained. "Your family needs to stop being so sweet, or I won't have any tears left for when I really need them."

Katie giggled. "I meant it, Santana."

"I know you did." She whispered in the younger girl's ear.

They embraced for a few more seconds. "Not that I don't love hugging you, but you kind of smell like sex, which is making me think about you having sex with my sister…"

Santana pulled away quickly. Katie laughed. "I'll see you in like, an hour and a half, okay San?"

"You got it Katie-Bear." Katie didn't make a face at the nickname. In fact, she actually smiled.

Santana closed the door softly, trying not to wake Brittany.

When she slipped back under the covers, Brittany pushed her naked form against Santana's. Santana smiled.

"Who was at the door, San?"

"No one Britt."

"But I heard knocking." She mumbled, already falling back asleep.

Santana kissed the top of her head. "Just our sister."

"Okay." Brittany sighed, before her breathing became even and heavy.

Santana grinned to herself. '_Our sister'_, she thought, '_I always wanted a sister'_. And, she realized, having a sibling wasn't nearly as bad as everyone was always saying it was. Actually, it was pretty awesome.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

When Mario got home, his wife was setting the table for dinner, humming softly to herself. He smiled softly. He loved when she was like this; open, singing, and free. It was wonderful for him, because it reminded him of the woman he had fallen in love with.

Mario cleared his throat, getting Angelica's attention. She looked up and smiled at him. He walked over and kissed her cheek.

"How are you?" He asked softly.

"I'm doing great. I had a wonderful day."

"What did you do?" He asked, loosening his tie and sitting in his usual seat at the head of the table.

"Brittany and Santana took me out to lunch."

Mario was silent, but he was smiling. Angelica thought that was a good sign. "And how are they?"

"They're good; they're really good. I was talking to Santana, and she says that they're going to come back tomorrow and stay with us." Mario nodded. "Are you going to be okay with that?"

Mario shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Angelica looked at him sternly. "Mario, I'm not joking. You _will_ make those girls feel at home."

He sighed. "I want to, Angelica. You know how much I want to. But… I can't control myself around them. I can't stop myself from saying the things that I do."

"You need to learn, Mario. You can't just let them feel ostracized and hated at this house. I won't have it." Mario was silent, looking down at his plate. "Why do you hate what they have? I've never seen two people more in love."

"It's about my brother." Mario said quietly.

Angelica was quiet for a few moments. "The one that committed suicide?" A nod from her husband. "You never told me why he did."

And then Mario proceeded to explain the whole story to his wife, for the first time. By the end, Angelica had tears running down her face. "Oh Mario…" She said, standing up to embrace him firmly. He hugged her back tightly. "You need to tell Santana and Brittany."

"I don't know if I can share it…"

"You need to tell your daughter, Mario. She deserves to know why you can't even say her girlfriend's name."

Mario flinched, but nodded slowly. "When they come back tomorrow, I'll have a talk with them; with both of them." He paused. "Maybe I should start with… with Brittany. I mean, I need to apologize to her the most, don't I?"

Angelica nodded and kissed him softly. "That's a good idea. I love you."

He kissed her back. "I love you too."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

There was a sharp knocking at Brittany's door. Santana jumped, pulled harshly from her calm sleep.

"Britt, Santana, Mom and Dad are gonna be home in half an hour! You should probably get in the shower…" Katie called through the door.

"Thanks Katie!" Santana called back.

Brittany hadn't moved yet.

Santana bent over and kissed her shoulder lightly. "Britt… Brittany baby, wake up."

Brittany groaned. "Why can't we sleep?"

Santana chuckled. "Your parents are going to be home soon, and we smell like sex."

Brittany smiled slightly and turned her head sideways towards Santana, her eyes still closed. "But I like the way you smell after sex."

Santana grinned. "But I'm sure your parents won't appreciate it. Come on, just get up for me." Brittany still didn't move. Santana stood up and walked over to the bathroom that joined to Brittany's room. "If you get up now, we can shower together."

Brittany leapt out of bed and slipped into the room ahead of a very amused Santana. The shower turned on, and Santana heard the curtain get pulled back. "Are you coming San?"

Santana chuckled again, but followed Brittany in, shutting and locking the door securely behind her.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Thirty-three minutes and almost all of the hot water later, a very tired Brittany and Santana emerged from the bathroom, both wrapped in towels and deliriously happy. Santana checked the clock and cursed under her breath. "Britt, your parents are probably here by now."

Brittany sighed. "So no more sweet lady kisses?"

"Brittany." Santana said warningly.

Brittany held up her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, we'll get dressed."

She turned away, but Santana grabbed her arm and spun her back around. "You know I'd much rather be getting my mack on with you."

Brittany made a face. "I don't like that phrase. It's really… high school."

"You know what I mean, Britt. I'd much rather be spending my time kissing you, but I'm actually really hungry. You tired me out today." Brittany grinned. "So we'll spend the night with your parents, and then head back to my terrible house tomorrow… and then Puck's party on Friday. We can dance all night."

Brittany smiled. "I can't wait. But before Friday is Thursday, Santana."

Santana sighed. "I don't wanna think about Thursday."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Santana paused for a second, thinking about it. "Later Britt. We should probably get dressed first though."

Brittany nodded. "I'm not going to let you forget though, San. We _are_ going to talk."

Santana kissed her girlfriend. "Okay B. I promise we'll talk. I love you."

"I love you too."

They got dressed quickly. Neither felt like putting on real clothes, so they went down in relaxing outfits; Brittany in sweat pants and a tank top, and Santana in a borrowed pair of pajama pants and an old, soft shirt with 'Cheerios' written on it. Brittany's hair was up in a loose bun, and Santana's was falling down past her shoulders, slowly returning to its natural waviness.

They walked into the family room hand in hand, giggling about something Brittany had said. Gordon looked up from his newspaper and smiled at the two girls. "Well you're happy. Did you have a nice day?"

The two girls exchanged a glance, before Santana said, "Yeah, it was great. We took my mother out to lunch."

Meg entered, wiping her flour-covered hands on her jeans. "That's wonderful. How did that go?"

"It was good." Brittany responded, sitting down in a chair and pulling Santana into her lap. "We're actually going to head back there tomorrow."

"Are you sure they're ready for that?"

Santana nodded. "We've given my dad plenty of time."

It was silent for a few seconds. "Are you sure you're ready?" Gordon asked softly.

Brittany glanced up at Santana, who had a firm look on her face. "I know I'm ready to be back there, helping out my mom. He's not going to keep me out of my house. I'm not eighteen anymore."

Meg nodded. "That's a good position to take, Santana. I'm proud of you."

Santana smiled. "Thanks Meg." Brittany kissed the back of Santana's neck subtly. Santana leaned back into the taller girl, taking comfort in her embrace.

Katie walked into the room then, a book in her hand. She sat down on the couch with a deep sigh, and propped her feet on the coffee table.

"Katie, shoes." Her mother admonished.

Katie kicked them off before replacing her feet. "Oh by the way," She said, not looking up from her book, "I'm going out tomorrow."

"With who?"

"Just Tyler."

Santana glanced back at Brittany, who had perked up slightly in her seat. _'Who's Tyler?'_ Santana mouthed to the other girl. Brittany shrugged, and turned her attention back to the conversation.

"Katie, tomorrow's a school night." Mrs. Pierce was saying.

"But Brittany got to go out all the time on school nights!"

"Only when she was with Santana." Her mother cut in.

Santana cringed a little bit, knowing where the conversation was going to go. "But that's no fair! How come Britt got to go out with her girlfriend, but I can't go out with a boy?"

"That was before they were dating, Katie." Mr. Pierce said from behind his paper.

Santana tried to make eye contact with Katie, shaking her head violently back and forth, signaling to the other girl not to say anything. But Katie was kind of upset, and she wasn't looking in the direction of sister or her girlfriend.

Katie laughed, obviously thinking that her parents were joking. "You're kidding, right? They've totally been fooling around since like, freshman year."

Brittany groaned and hid her head behind Santana's shoulder. Santana smacked her forehead.

It was quiet for a few seconds in the house.

"Whoops." Katie whispered, looking apologetically at Brittany and Santana. Brittany glared at her sister.

"Brittany," Gordon said firmly, "is that true?"

"Well…" Brittany cleared her throat, "sort of?"

Gordon sighed and reached into his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Brittany asked nervously.

"Getting twenty dollars." Mrs. Pierce said smugly.

The three girls in the room turned and looked at her questioningly. "Mom?" Katie asked.

Meg walked over and took the twenty dollar bill away from her husband. "Thank you." She said, pocketing it.

"What was that about?" Brittany asked.

"Your father and I had a running bet; we just didn't know how to settle it."

The girls remained confused.

Gordon cut in, trying to explain. "You see, your mother was convinced that you two had been messing around together since you were fourteen, and I said it didn't start until you were sixteen."

Brittany and Santana wore matching expressions of disbelief. "So… you bet on our love life?" Brittany asked, incredulous.

Mr. Pierce shrugged. "What else were we going to do until you two figured it out for yourselves?"

Santana and Katie laughed, but Brittany was still a little upset. "I can't believe you bet money on me!"

"Come on Britt, it's kind of sweet." Santana said in her ear.

Brittany huffed. "Well, I say neither of you should win."

"And why's that?"

Brittany shrugged. "Santana first kissed me when we were twelve."

Santana blushed crimson while the rest of the room cracked up.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, and I make no money off of these stories.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N****: **_**THIS IS NOT MY ORIGINAL STORY!**_** The ideas, as well as the first few sections, come from the author **1964-2010**. I adopted the story, edited it, and added onto it **_**WITH THE AUTHOR'S PERMISSION.**_

**If you want to read that story, (just a heads up, it's incomplete), it can be found here:**

**www (.) fanfiction (.) net/s/7424796/1/A_Matter_of_Miserable_Time**

**(Minus the spaces)**

**Thank you so much to the wonderful **1964-2010** for allowing me to take this incredible story and make it my own. You deserve all the credit for this amazing story idea. Thank you and enjoy!**

A Matter of Miserable Time

Morning came quickly; too quickly, in Santana's opinion. Morning was there, it seemed, seconds after she had closed her eyes. And though she slept soundly (because she always does when she's next to Brittany), she woke up not nearly well-rested enough to deal with her family.

But she had promised her mother, and Brittany, that they would be back today, and she was planning on keeping that promise.

Santana Lopez may have done a lot of bad things in her life, but she had _never_ broken a promise to Brittany.

Santana blinked the sleep out of her eyes, bringing Brittany's small bedroom into focus. She loved this room. She spent so much time here throughout her childhood. She lived in this room, literally lived in it, for the last three months that she was in Lima.

This room was kind of the collective timeline of every important event in her and Brittany's relationship. This was where she'd had her first ever sleepover. She first kissed Brittany up here. Their first time having sex, the first time Brittany ever told her she loved her… it all happened in this one, small blue room.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

_February 17, 2006_

_Santana was twisting her hands together, looking down at them rather than the blonde girl sitting in front of her. Brittany was giggling at something on the T.V., but Santana had stopped paying attention a while ago._

"_Hey Britt?"_

"_Yeah?" Brittany answered, still focused on her show._

"_Can you turn the T.V. off for a second?"_

"_Sure." Brittany smiled and did as Santana asked. She always did whatever Santana wanted her to do. "What's up?"_

_Santana glanced up at Brittany and then back down at her twisting fingers. "Have you ever kissed anyone, Britt?"_

_Brittany squinted her eyes in concentration. "Well… my mom and dad…"_

"_No, like a real kiss, Britt, with someone that's not related to you."_

"_Oh. Well then no, I guess not."_

_It was quiet for a few more seconds. "Do you think maybe... you'd wanna kiss me?"_

_Brittany looked at her innocently, while Santana's stomach was twisting and turning nervously. Brittany smiled. "Of course I wanna kiss you, San." Santana attributed this sentence to Brittany simply being Brittany, and wouldn't think anything different for a long time. Of course, it wasn't until much later that Santana even toyed with the idea that Brittany might feel something for her, _anything_ really, that wasn't friendship._

_Before Brittany could even blink, Santana had leaned across the bed and pressed her lips against Brittany's soft ones. Santana felt her heart lurch. _'It's because it's my first kiss,'_ she told herself, _'it's not because I have any feelings for her.'

_Brittany pulled away after a few seconds, grinning hugely. "That was nice, San." She said quietly._

"_Yeah, yeah it was, B." Santana said quietly, putting a finger to her lips and feeling them tingle. "We should keep doing that." She said quickly._

"_Sure." Brittany agreed without delay._

"_You know," Santana continued, trying to justify it more to herself than to her best friend, "because we need to practice, for when we have to kiss boys. We don't want to go in there like, totally incompetent, do we?"_

_Brittany shook her head, but found that she was feeling a little bit down. She didn't know what 'incompetent' meant, but the way Santana said it made it sound bad. But that wasn't why she was upset. Brittany scrunched her forehead in confusion while Santana continued to mumble to herself._

_Why was she so sad? She was just helping Santana out, kissing her, so that she could be good for the boys. Brittany's heart clenched as she thought the last word. That's what was bothering her. She didn't want Santana to be practicing for boys, because she wanted Santana all to herself._

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana smiled at the memory. She had no idea where she'd be in life if she hadn't had the courage to kiss Brittany that day. She remembers the day perfectly, too. It's not often that you forget your first kiss.

It was snowing outside, and she remembers that she had stayed the night at Brittany's house so they could go sledding early in the morning. There weren't many things Brittany loved more than sledding on a cold winter morning. There weren't many people that could make Santana Lopez wake up early on a Saturday and go sledding, either.

When they had come back inside, they had both had snow melted into their hair, making it a mass of tangled curls. They had been laughing, cheeks and noses pink from the cold.

Brittany's mom made them hot chocolate and set up a movie in Brittany's room so they could sit under the covers and get warm again. Santana had looked over at Brittany and seen the cold-flushed face, the blue eyes sparkling with excitement, and her breathy laugh as they raced each other down the large hill behind the local middle school, and Santana had never seen anything more beautiful.

Of course, back then, she didn't know what she was feeling. She was just enthralled by her blue-eyed best friend. She didn't recognize the first stages of her crush for what they really were.

Santana looked over at her still sleeping girlfriend. She was still just as beautiful and carefree as she had been on that snowy February day, 9 years ago.

Santana leaned over and kissed Brittany lightly on the forehead. Brittany mumbled a little in her sleep and struggled to open her eyes. Finally, after blinking a few times, she was able to focus in on Santana.

"I love waking up like that." She mumbled, stretching her arms above her head.

Santana smiled. "I love waking up next to you."

Brittany chuckled. "Awww Santana, you're such a sap." Santana didn't deny it. "What time is it?" Brittany asked, craning her neck to see her clock.

Santana checked for her. "It's about… seven-thirty. I know it's kind of early, but I couldn't sleep any longer."

"What woke you up?"

Santana shrugged. "Dunno. But I was thinking this morning."

"Oh yeah? Anything wanky?"

Santana chuckled. "No. I was just thinking back to February of 2006."

"Our first kiss." Brittany smiled softly at the memory.

"Yeah."

"You were kind of an idiot back then."

Santana chuckled. "Don't I know it. You were just as perfect as ever, though."

"Awww." Brittany picked her head up to kiss Santana lightly on the lips. "Your cheesiness is kind of adorable at times."

"Don't let Puck hear you calling me adorable. I'd never live it down."

Brittany smiled and stretched again. "Wanna make some breakfast?"

"Sure." Santana smiled. "But promise me you'll stay away from the stove, Britt. I really don't want to lose any more clothes."

Brittany pouted. "Twice, Santana. I only lit myself on fire twice."

"And that was two times too many. Now come on, I'll make you pancakes."

Brittany grinned. "I love your pancakes!" She leapt out of bed and skipped over to her dresser, grabbed her brush, and ran it through her hair quickly. Brittany was still in her loose sweatpants and tight tank top, and Santana zipped a jacket on over her tee-shirt, before they linked hands and headed downstairs quietly.

They got into the kitchen and Brittany hopped up onto the counter to watch Santana cook. This was one of her favorite things to do. She loved watching Santana when she was concentrating on something. She made this cute little face, where she stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, and furrowed her brow a little bit… Brittany loved that face. Santana rarely let people see it.

They two girls were chatting softly as Santana stirred the pancake batter, when they heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

Katie emerged from upstairs, dressed in fresh clothes and rubbing sleep out of her eyes. She yawned. "Good morning."

"Morning Katie!" Brittany said brightly, sticking her finger into the pancake batter and then licking it off. Santana was so busy watching this that she didn't immediately acknowledge the youngest Pierce daughter.

When she did finally turn to her, blushing at the sight of Brittany's tongue running up and down her finger, it was to meet a smirking Katie, who had obviously been watching Santana's eyes.

"Why aren't you at school?" Santana said quickly, steering the conversation as far away from sex as she could manage.

Katie shrugged. "It's like, the last few months of junior year; I really couldn't care less about school."

"Katie, you have finals coming up."

Katie sort of rolled her eyes. "Please Santana, like you _ever_ went to school."

"Hey," Santana said, brandishing the batter-covered spatula in Katie's direction, not even pretending to be threatening, "I always went for final week. And you know I kicked some major ass on those tests. They got me into NYU, didn't they?"

Katie sighed. "I mean, I have Photography first period, so…"

Santana scoffed. "Well why didn't you just say so? Here, I'll make you some pancakes, but you better make it to second period on time."

Katie grinned and saluted Santana, before pulling out three plates and putting them on the table.

"Where are Mom and Dad?" Brittany asked as she grabbed forks.

"I think Dad went to work already, and Mom… well, she's probably still asleep."

Santana chuckled. "That's the Pierce family. Never could wake them up for anything."

"We sleep like the dead." Brittany added, winking at her sister. Katie giggled.

"Alright, one batch of Auntie Tana's marvelous pancakes, as requested. Eat them slowly, they're still hot." Santana said as she put the still-steaming plate on the table. The two blondes dug in heartily.

Brittany moaned. "God Santana… these are like, better than an orgasm."

Santana shot Brittany a look. "I don't know whether to be insulted or complimented, so I'm just going to pretend you didn't say that."

Katie snickered into her food.

Santana shot her a look, as well. "Hey now, don't laugh. What's this I hear about a certain boy named Tyler? Who's Tyler?"

Katie shrugged and tried to pass it off as nothing, but she was too much like her older sister. They were both terrible liars. "He's no one."

"Come on Katie, you can tell us. We're like, your best friends." Brittany said, pouting a little bit.

"If you two were my best friends, I think I might have to kill myself."

"Well don't say that to Quinn," Santana cut in quickly, "you might give her ideas."

Both girls laughed. "But seriously Katie," Brittany said, leaning across the table to look her sister squarely in the face, "tell us about Tyler. Is he cute? Does he play sports? Is he in Glee?"

Katie pulled a face. "I don't care what you say Britt, the Glee kids are still nerds."

"So not Glee Club, then." Santana said, still prodding.

Katie sighed. "Look, he's just this guy who I go to school with. He's on the basketball team, and he plays in a band… and yeah, he's asked me out a few times."

Santana and Brittany exchanged a smirking look. "What, not interested?" Brittany teased.

Katie huffed. "Well, not really. Do you guys remember that guy Puckerman?"

Brittany and Santana grinned fondly at each other. "How could we forget Puck?" Santana asked seriously.

"Well yeah, he's like Puck."

Brittany pulled a face. "Gross. Maybe you shouldn't date him."

Katie shrugged. "We've gone out a few times."

"Have you slept with him?" Brittany asked calmly.

"BRITT!" Santana and Katie yelled at the same time.

"What? I was just wondering. Because if he's like Puck, then they've already slept together."

Katie blushed and hid her face. "I can't believe you're asking me this…" She mumbled under her breath.

"Look, I just want to make sure you're being safe…"

"Brittany, stop. Mom and Dad already gave me this talk when I was like, thirteen."

Brittany blinked, very confused. "Wait, what? Why? They didn't talk to me until I was like, sixteen."

"Well…" Katie blushed. "I asked them why you and Santana were dancing naked, and they got really quiet, and then told me that when two people love each other…"

"Yeah, we got it." Santana cut her off, blushing furiously. "I don't think I can ever be more embarrassed around your family, Britt. Seriously, how am I supposed to look at any of them ever again?"

"You know, I should really be blaming you!"

"Blaming us!" Brittany exclaimed. "For poking your head into my room while we were having sex?"

"No, for confusing me beyond belief. It wasn't until I was fifteen and in the girl's locker room that I found out that boys and girls had sex with each other for reasons besides making babies."

"We're not talking about… wait, what?" Brittany stopped, confused.

"Yeah, that's right. I thought that girls had sex with girls for pleasure, and girls had sex with boys for babies. I mean, I kind of assumed that girls could only be happy with other girls, because I'd only ever seen your relationship, and Mom and Dad's, but you know, they're old, so I thought they were like, a special case.

"And I remember I was kind of upset about it, because I didn't want to have sex with girls, so I thought it wasn't fair that we all had to…" Brittany and Santana were snickering, biting their lips to keep from making noise. Katie frowned. "It's really not that funny."

"Are you kidding? It's hilarious! Oh, I can just imagine the look on your face when one of your friends brought up having sex with a guy… I bet you were so confused…"

Katie blushed. "Yeah, well I was kind of the laughing stock of the grade for a while, until someone caught those two hockey players in the shower together."

"Ahhh High School," Santana said fondly, "how I am thankful every day that I don't have to go back."

Katie stared down at her empty plate. "Look, you know I've always been supportive of your relationship, right?"

"Of course, Katie." Brittany said, a little surprised. "What's this about?"

"It's just…" she paused for a second, "you're not mad at me because I'm not a lesbian, are you?"

Santana and Brittany cracked up. "Of course we're not mad at you! Are you kidding?" Santana said, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You be whoever the hell you wanna be, Katie. Don't worry about living the same life as your sister. If you want to date a basketball player, play field hockey, lacrosse, hell, football even, do it. Do whatever you want. Just do it because _you_ want to, alright? Not because everyone else says that's the way it should be." Santana made eye contact with Brittany across the table. "I've made that mistake enough for all of us."

Katie nodded solemnly. "I got it. I love you both. I'm headed to school now." She got up and kissed both women once on the cheek, before scurrying out the door with her bag slung over her shoulder.

"She's a good kid, Britt."

"Yeah. Yeah, she's great. Can you believe she was worried we'd be mad at her for not being gay?"

Santana laughed. "It's just like her though, isn't it?"

Brittany smiled at the place her sister was a few seconds earlier. "Just like our Katie- Bear."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

"What should I wear? I mean, do I go with a dress, or jeans and a tee-shirt? Dios, why am I freaking out about this? It's not that big a deal. I mean, I'm just going back to my house." Santana mumbled, digging through Brittany's closet to try and find something to wear.

Brittany, who had finished getting dressed fifteen minutes ago, walked up behind Santana and wrapped her arms around the other girl. "Shhh." Brittany whispered in her ear. "You have to relax."

Santana sighed. "I can't relax, B. I'm freaking out about seeing my dad. I mean, I yelled at him the other day and then just stormed out…"

"I'm not saying that it won't be awkward, but we've dealt with awkward before. We can do this." Brittany kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I believe in you, Santana."

Santana took a deep breath. "Okay. I can do this. I just won't think about my outfit." She stood in front of the closet for a few more seconds, frozen. "Can you pick out my outfit, B?"

Brittany smiled softly. "Of course. And I'm bringing your 'Lebanese' tee-shirt."

"I don't think I should wear that…"

"Not for today. But I think it's about time you had it, wouldn't you say? I mean, no one's wearing it around here, unless Katie isn't telling us something…" She joked.

Santana chuckled. "Thanks, Britt. I'm sure I'll wear it all the time."

"You definitely will, because I'm going to make you wear it." Brittany winked, pulling out a few different options and laying them on her bed.

Santana walked over to her blonde girlfriend and turned her around before quickly embracing her. "How do you always know exactly what to say to make me feel better?"

Brittany shrugged against Santana's shoulders. "What can I say? It's a gift, from knowing you so long."

"I love you Brittany."

"I love you too. Now here, put this on." She said, thrusting the clothes towards Santana's chest.

Santana eyed them. "You sure they're not too… slutty?"

Brittany shot her a look. "Nothing I own is slutty, Santana."

Santana raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Because I seem to recall a certain Halloween in our senior year where you decided to-"

"Okay Santana, I get it. But either way, I brought all my slutty stuff to New York with us."

"You did?" Santana asked, equal parts amused and surprised. "Why haven't I seen it yet?"

"Oh you have Santana, believe me. You just didn't know it." Brittany could see Santana's eyes darken with lust.

"So… you've secretly been wearing all of your slutty clothes, and you didn't even have the decency to tell me about it?"

Brittany winked. "You'll figure out what I'm talking about. Now come on, put on the clothes."

Santana sauntered over to Brittany and pressed their bodies tightly together. "I don't really think we should be putting anything else on…"

Brittany rolled her eyes. "I know you're stalling. And as sexy as you are, especially in just your underwear…" Brittany glanced down at Santana's body, gulped, and then looked back up, "I'm not going to let you dawdle. We're going back to your house. Whether we do it now or in forty minutes is up to you. But if you wait forty minutes, I'm not letting you shower."

Santana sighed. "Party pooper." She mumbled before pulling the tight clothes onto her body.

Brittany chuckled. "You know I still love you."

Santana pulled her head through her shirt, leaving her hair disheveled. Brittany giggled at the image. Santana stuck her tongue out at her.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

The phone rang three times in the Lopez house before someone picked up.

"Hello?" Mario's gruff voice asked. It was still kind of early, and he hadn't had his coffee yet, so he was a little bit rough.

"Hey Papi." Santana's quiet voice said on the other end of the line. "I was just calling to say that Britt and I… we're coming back this morning. Is that… is that okay?"

"Of course, of course it's okay, Santana." He was quick to respond. "Yes, please come home. I need to talk to you; to the both of you. I need to apologize for my behavior."

It was quiet for a few seconds. "You know you don't need to do that Papi." Santana said, but he knew she was lying. Santana needed his apology almost as much as she needed Brittany.

"When are you going to be back?"

"Well… we're actually almost there. I just needed to give you a heads up."

"Of course, Mija. Come home quickly, and then we'll talk, yes?"

"Yeah Papi, we'll talk." He could hear the sadness in her voice.

"Santana-" he paused for a second, "I am so sorry."

"It's fine Papi, really. I'll see you in a minute." And then she hung up.

Mario shook his head. It wasn't fine. There was no excuse for his behavior. And it really hurt that his daughter was being the bigger man (so to speak) in this situation. He should never have forced her into this situation.

Mario glanced around the kitchen, wondering where on Earth his wife was. He got up from the table and poked his head out of the door. "Angelica?" He called, confused. She was usually awake by now…

"I'm upstairs Mario! I'll be down in a minute!" She called from the vague direction of the bedroom.

Mario shrugged and turned to head back into the kitchen when there was a knock on the door.

He hurried over and pulled the door open. He was slightly surprised to see Santana and Brittany on the other side, the former looking sheepish, the latter looking at ease.

"Er…" Mario cleared his throat, "Come in." He stood back from the door and ushered the two girls inside. "You know you don't have to knock, Santana."

Santana shrugged. "I wasn't sure…"

His heart tugged painfully inside his chest and he silently cursed himself. He had done it. He had made his daughter afraid to enter her own home.

Mario, not knowing how to act, turned on his heel and strode into the kitchen. He missed the look that passed between his daughter and her girlfriend.

Santana's eyes were pleading, Brittany's warning.

'Please don't make me do this.' One set seemed to be saying, and 'Hold it together' was the response she received. Santana sighed and followed her father into the kitchen.

The two girls entered to see Mario sitting at the table, twiddling his fingers anxiously. Santana didn't want to sit down, but she didn't really want to be standing either. She was stuck in an awkward spot, wanting to sit down, just to have something to do, but not wanting to get any closer to her father. The atmosphere was tense and strained.

"Santana," Mario finally said, "can you go upstairs and check on your mother? I'd like to have a talk with Brittany."

Santana's eyes widened and flashed with something that Mario couldn't quite decipher between fear and fury. "I'm not leaving."

Brittany reached over and grasped her girlfriend's hand. "Three minutes, San." Brittany said softly.

Santana made eye contact with her girlfriend. "Britt…."

"Just three minutes." Brittany promised.

Santana shot a look at her father before nodding. Before she left, she walked over to the table and bent over it, speaking through clenched teeth.

"If you touch her," she growled, "if you insult her, if you so much as _breathe_ at her the wrong way…" She left the threat open, allowing Mario to imagine whatever horrible things he wanted to.

Mario gulped. Was it strange that he was completely terrified of his twenty-one, hundred and ten pound daughter? He thought not. Santana was always intimidating, and she was a master and manipulating people into doing whatever she wanted, mostly through fear. She had learned that from him.

Santana stalked out of the room and up the stairs, not trying to hide her anger in the slightest.

Brittany took a seat across from Mario, not showing any hesitation or intimidation in front of the man. She wasn't afraid of him, and she never had been. No need to start now.

Mario cleared his throat. "I need to apologize to you, Brittany. I haven't been treating you fairly." He paused, expecting her to interject with something, anything, but she was silent. "I wanted you to know that I am truly, deeply sorry for how I acted towards you and Santana."

"I'm sorry Mar – Mr. Lopez, but it's not enough." He blinked at her. "Look, it doesn't matter to me that you cursed my name, and refused to speak to me for three years. That's who you are, it was your decision, and no, I didn't like it, but that's the way things happened.

"But it matters to Santana. You hurt her more than I think even she realizes. You can't apologize to me and expect anything to change. It's not enough. You isolated her Mr. Lopez, not the other way around."

Mario sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I wanted to speak to you because I wanted to tell you why I did what I did. And… it won't fix everything; hell, it might not even fix anything, but it's the best I can do. It's the only way I know how to make things right. But I had to start with you because I needed to make amends.

"I've always thought of you as a second daughter, Brittany. I loved having you around. You were like a ray of sunshine in this miserable house. And you made Santana so much of a better person. I saw how she was when you weren't talking, and it was terrible, for all of us. But when she told me about your relationship… I just lost it. And I can never hope to make things the way they were; the most I can do is ask, and beg, for your forgiveness. At the very least, your patience while I try and fix my past wrongs."

Brittany reached across the table and grasped his hand. "I can try to do that." She said softly.

And that was how Santana found them, forty seconds later.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana entered her parents' bedroom without knocking and started pacing across the floor. Angelica looked up from her book, surprised at seeing her daughter there. "Hello, Santana. How are you? Where's Brittany?"

"Hey, Mami." Santana said, glancing at her mother once before returning her gaze to the door. Every few seconds she'd glance at the clock, checking the time.

"What's wrong, Mija?"

"Brittany's downstairs, talking to Dad." Santana ran a hand through her hair. "I'm nervous. Is that a bad thing? Should I be afraid for her?"

"Of course not darling. Come here." Mrs. Lopez beckoned, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

Santana flopped down onto the spot, still glancing at the clock every few seconds.

"Santana, there is nothing to worry about. Your father talked to me a little bit, and he said he wanted to apologize to her, to both of you. I'm sure everything's fine. Why do you keep looking at the clock?"

"I'm checking the time. Brittany said three minutes, and I'm planning on waiting exactly three minutes before I'm down there again."

Angelica rolled her eyes. "You need to give your father more credit, Mija."

"I don't trust him anymore." Santana said darkly.

"Well I _do_." Angelica said, putting a hand on Santana's chin, forcing her daughter to make eye contact with her. "I trust him with my life. So give them a little time, please. If not for your father, than for me."

Santana sighed. "Alright Mami, for you." She wrapped her arms around her mother and hugged her tightly. They stayed like that for another minute or so, before Santana got up.

"I'll be back up in a little while Mami." Santana said sincerely.

"No matter what happens, Santana, promise me that you won't leave."

"I promise."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

"Santana, good, you're here. Sit down, please." Mario said, gently retracting his hand from Brittany's and using it to gesture across the table.

Santana sat down, her posture tight and frozen.

Mario his hand over his face again. "I need to tell you a story."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Look, if this is one of those, 'there was once a father who loved his daughter very much' stories, save it. I don't need to hear it."

"Santana, please." Brittany whispered.

Santana glanced at her girlfriend, and when their eyes met, Santana deflated. She slipped her hand into Brittany's and squeezed it softly. "I'm sorry." She said, looking back at her dad.

Mario nodded, before continuing as if nothing had ever happened. "This is a story about my brother. You never knew him, Santana, because he died a long time ago. He committed suicide. And I need to tell you why.

"I looked up to my brother more than anyone else. I loved him more than my own parents. He always looked out for me, and he kept me safe from the world. He helped me with my homework, and he taught me how to play baseball. He was wonderful, just a wonderful boy. He never bothered anyone, and he did everything that was ever asked of him.

"He was sixteen when he first told us. I think it was more of a shock to me than to either of my parents. And it was hard for us, at first. I mean, as a family, it's a hard thing to deal with. With a religious family, it's almost impossible."

Santana looked puzzled. "What are we talking about, Papi?"

"He was gay, Santana. When he was sixteen years old, my brother told us that he was gay."

Santana's eyebrows raised in surprise. She never knew that there were any other gay people in her family.

"I was mad at him, for a while. How could he go off and be so different? And it confused me, especially. I mean, my brother was such a wonderful person. How could he be something so… unclean? It didn't make sense to my fourteen year old brain.

"But he was still the same. Just because he had told us that he was gay, it didn't make him any different. He still loved baseball, he still got good grades, and he still worked his paper route, almost as if nothing had even happened. And you know what? I was fine with who he was. It was just… the way he was born."

Santana felt anger bubbling up in her stomach. "Then why the hell did you kick _me_ out? If you were so fine with your brother being gay, then why the _fuck_ was I put on the streets?"

Mario held up his hands, his eyes full of remorse. "Please, Santana. I'm getting to that."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "He never told us about the things that happened to him at school. I only ever knew because we went to the same high school, and I would see him sometimes in the hallway. My brother was always chatty, and fun, and he was always smiling, but not at school. At school he walked with his head down, his eyes fixed on the ground. If any of the big football players walked by him, he would flinch. I never understood.

"One day, a boy in my class started to throw things at me. He would shove me into lockers and knock my books down, and when I confronted him about it, he said, 'Maybe this'll make that faggot brother of yours shape up!' I was shocked. How could this boy be tormenting me for something that my brother couldn't control? That was my first hint of how terrible life would have been for my brother… even for you, Santana."

Mario fiddled with his hands, tears starting to leak from his eyes. Santana and Brittany were frozen on the other side of the table, unsure of how they were supposed to be reacting.

"It must have been so much worse for him. I was being tormented by one boy; he had the whole school going after him. And it started to get to him. He stopped laughing, he stopped smiling, he stopped doing his school work… my brother stopped being happy. I should have noticed… they say you're supposed to look for signs of depression, and my brother had them all. But I didn't do anything about it.

"One day, I came home from school a little bit late, and…" Mario's voice cracked, "and I called up the stairs. I knew my brother was home, because his shoes were in the front hall. But no one answered. So I went up to his room, and I knocked, and when no one answered either, I… I tried to open the door, but it was locked.

"I was so scared. I just knew something bad had happened. I was so scared, Mija… So I knocked into the door a little bit with my shoulder, until finally it broke open."

Mario made eye contact with his daughter across the table. She could see the anguish swimming in his gaze. "There are some things you can't un-see, Santana. There are some moments in your life that last milliseconds, and there are some that seem to last years. This was the longest twenty-seven minutes of my life.

"When the door broke, and I got inside, it was to see my brother, hanging from the ceiling of his room, his belt around his neck. I should have reacted faster. I couldn't even move for ten seconds… I should have moved faster…" Mario shook himself to get back on track.

"When I _could_ move, I ran to him, and I tried to lift him up. I tried to get his neck out of the rope, but it was too tight. I remember thinking that it was too tight for him to still be alive. But I kept trying. And about 5 tries later, I got him down.

"In the movies you see nowadays, when you pull someone down from that, they sputter, and cough, and wake up. He didn't wake up. He didn't cough, or breathe, or move. So I ran downstairs. I was sobbing as I called the police.

"They got there in a few minutes, and I was right at my brother's side as they put him in the ambulance and drove him to the hospital. I don't know how they got in contact with my sister, or with my parents, but they were there by the time they wheeled my brother in. The Medics weren't rushing around, yelling things like 'STAT!' or 'Get me the crash cart!' They just pushed him in slowly.

"I was yelling at them. I must have been screaming bloody murder. I yelled, 'What are you doing? Help him! Help him, dammit, do something!' and then I screamed his name as I cried. 'Tony!' I yelled. 'Tony! Tony! Wake up, you have to wake up!' And my mother held my close, and cried into the top of my head, and my older sister was sitting against the wall with tears streaming down her face. And I knew he was dead for good."

Mario was crying steadily now. Santana and Brittany, too, couldn't stop the natural reactions their bodies had to the horrible story.

Mario wiped at his eyes. "I never read his suicide note. But from what my parents and sister said… he killed himself because of the people at school. They tormented him to the point where he couldn't even bear the thought of _living_. And it was all because he was gay. And I swore to myself that day that I would never let anything like that happen again in my life.

"God couldn't make people like that, I convinced myself. God couldn't force that amount of torture and despair on any of His children, especially one as pure and wonderful as my brother. I refused to believe that that was the way he was born. And I hated him, for a while. I hated that he chose to be gay, when he could have just as easily told everyone at school that he liked girls, and then he would have stayed popular, and he wouldn't have been attacked, and he would be alive.

"And Santana, when you told me… when you told me that you were in love with Brittany, my heart froze. It couldn't be. God couldn't punish me like this _twice_ in my life. He couldn't take my brother away from me, and then my only child, too. Because I knew how hard it would be for you. If my brother's life was anything to go by, life would be _impossible_ for you.

"And I refused to let that happen. I wouldn't lose my only child. So I asked you to choose between your mother and I, and Brittany. I thought that if you chose us, if you pretended that this never existed, that you would be safe. That nothing would happen to you. In the process, I destroyed our relationship."

Mario blinked a few of the tears away. "I recognize what I ruined. I know we can never be the same. I know you can never love me again, but I need you to know _why_. I hated what homosexuality had done to my family when I was young, and now it was like I was being forced to relive it again. It was terrible torment for me."

Mario shifted his gaze to Brittany, and directed his next words at her. "Brittany, you've always been a second child to me. You kept my daughter grounded, and you lit up my days. And when she told me that she was in love with you… I wanted so badly to be happy for the two of you. But the only emotion I could muster up was betrayal.

"I felt betrayed by you, Brittany, because you had always held our family together. And now, it was as if you were pulling it apart. I couldn't stand what was happening, and I blamed you. I blamed you for who Santana was, and that was so, _so_ wrong of me. I know you can't help who you fall in love with. So, for the first time, can I just say how happy I am for you two? I can't express enough how thrilled I am that you found each other. It's a wonderful, wonderful thing, young love. Please, cherish it. And please, if you can find it in your hearts to let me back into your life… it won't be easy for any of us but… but I need you two back again. I can't live without you girls, not anymore."

Santana and Brittany looked at each other. They didn't know what to say. Brittany wanted to get up and hug Mario, but Santana kind of wanted to scream at him. Neither girl could move, though. Their next action would shape the course of their future with Mario Lopez. Neither wanted that much responsibility on their shoulders.

If they accepted his apology, and tried to be civil with him, it could all blow up in their faces. One wrongly-placed sentence could burn every bridge they had been slowly building over the past three years. Their connection would be broken, with no hope this time of ever fixing it.

On the other hand, if they chose not to accept his last ditch effort, they could never again be on good terms with the Lopez family. There would be no more family dinners, and any children Santana and Brittany may have in the future (Santana's stomach lurched pleasantly at the thought) would never know their grandfather. But could they just brush off all the pain he had caused them?

And what about the benefits? Ignoring her father would mean that Santana would never again have to worry about Brittany being mistreated amongst family. They could avoid all the drama and awkward pauses that always happened whenever they brought up their relationship, and Santana would never have to worry about getting her heart broken by her parents.

But if they took Mario's apology, and he actually attempted civility and humanity towards them… then that would be amazing. She could have a relationship with her father again, no matter how shaky or slightly dysfunctional. She could spend Christmases eating and laughing with her parents and her girlfriend, and she wouldn't have to worry about her hypothetical children growing up without a grandfather.

But was it worth the risk? Santana knew she had to make a decision, and fast, because her father's face was slowly drooping and losing all signs of hope. Which way did she go, the easy route or the risky one? Which one would be better for her and Brittany in the long run? Which one would hurt less?

Santana finally stood up. It felt like she had been thinking for twenty minutes, but she knew it couldn't have been any longer than thirty seconds.

Mario looked up at his daughter nervously. She wasn't moving, as if still weighing her decision. Then Santana set her jaw, and Mario knew she had made her choice.

His gaze dropped to his lap, and he tried to fight the tears that were welling up in his eyes. He had tried. He had really and truly tried to apologize and be a better father to his daughter. Of course, he couldn't blame her for hating him, for not wanting anything to do-

Mario's thoughts were interrupted as he felt someone throw themselves on top of him. Mr. Lopez's head shot up to see his daughter's black hair pressed against his chest, embracing him firmly. Mario blinked, completely shocked.

"I am so sorry about your brother, Papi. And… we can try to be a family again…"

Mario wrapped his arms around the young woman and pulled her closer to him, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo and something that was decidedly… Brittany. It didn't surprise him to find that he could smell the other girl on his daughter. In fact, he found he loved the combination.

Mario glanced up and saw his daughter's girlfriend still sitting across the table, happy tears filling her eyes.

Mario gestured with his head, beckoning the blonde girl closer.

Brittany's eyes widened, but she did as he wished.

Once she was close enough, Mario freed an arm from around Santana, reached up, and pulled Brittany into their embrace. The simple hug between a daughter and her miserable father quickly turned into a group hug of comfort and promises in the Lopez kitchen.

And for the first time in three years, Mario felt that everything would be okay.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Angelica Lopez had waited patiently in her room with her only daughter as Santana paced around. She knew how nervous the girl was. Angelica really couldn't blame her.

If their roles were reversed, Angelica doubted that she would have been able to stop herself from throwing up due to nerves. Santana had always been able to handle herself remarkably well in stressful situations. Angelica envied that quality in her daughter.

Santana practically sprinted from the room when the three minutes was up. Angelica chuckled. For all her abilities to project a calm demeanor, Santana had never been known for her patience.

Angelica got up from the bed slowly. She was desperate to learn what they were talking about in the kitchen, but she didn't want to intrude. '_Of course,' _she reasoned, '_this is still my house. It's not really eavesdropping, just… convenient placement.'_

With that thought in mind, Mrs. Lopez crept from the room. She almost chuckled at the memories this brought back. She spent a good deal of her teenage years sneaking around the house, trying not to wake her parents. She was sure Santana had done her fair amount of sneaking around on these floorboards as well.

This situation felt remarkably similar to Angelica. In fact, she remembered sneaking around this very house not so long ago. She was always nervous about walking around after dark, because, frankly, she was terrified she would wake her husband. Most nights Brittany and Santana were staying here, and she knew that if Mario woke up, he wouldn't have been able to miss the obvious evidence the girls seemed to leave around. For all Santana's terror of being discovered, she really was terrible at being subtle.

Angelica paused outside the kitchen door. She could hear her husband's voice coming from inside, and she recognized the heart-wrenching story he was retelling to the two women. She waited with baited breath while he revealed his past to his daughter.

When he was done she bit her lip nervously, silently praying to whichever God was listening to let her daughter make the right decision. The thirty seconds of silence were the longest of her life. She was sure that everyone in the kitchen could hear her hammering heart.

'_Please let Santana forgive him_.' She prayed. '_He's made so many mistakes, Dios, just let him have this one. Just let my family be whole again. Please Lord.'_

She almost wept tears of joy when she heard Santana embrace her father. She actually did cry when Brittany joined their hug.

It was at this point that Angelica couldn't stay in hiding. She burst into the room, startling everyone inside. Angelica laughed a teary, breathy laugh, and ran to hug her family; her _complete _family.

She was going into the hospital tomorrow. But at least she could go knowing that, when she got out, her family would still be around.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana hadn't expected it to be easy, and it wasn't. It was an adjustment on all parts, but most specifically hers and her father's.

Mario still cleared his throat when Santana held Brittany's hand, though he turned red and apologized profusely for it afterwards. He still had to bite his lip when his wife talked to Santana and Brittany about _their_ apartment, and _their_ friends, and _their_ future. He was fighting a life of prejudice and ingrained ideas, and it wasn't all going to go away in a day. He hadn't expected it to. But he was trying.

Santana still found herself mad at her father. Whenever he blinked furiously at her hand resting on Brittany's back, or furrowed his brow when Brittany would laugh loudly and call her 'San', Santana had to fight the urge to slap him. She wanted to make him joke with Brittany, to laugh at her jokes, to smile at them and call them cute, like her mother. So maybe she wanted her dad to be her mom.

She knew he was working on it. It was only the night of the talk in the kitchen, and all in all, Santana was proud of the progress her father was making. But she also wished he would just speed it up already.

It was selfish of her, and she recognized that. She just… she wanted her dad to be the way he was. Now that he was talking to Brittany, and acknowledging that they were in a relationship (he had even referred to her as Santana's _girlfriend_), she wanted him to be completely accepting and open. She knew it wouldn't happen. It didn't change the fact that she secretly wished it.

Angelica was thrilled with the way things had turned out. Her husband and her daughter were speaking. True, the atmosphere was awkward, and a little tense, and Santana seemed to be afraid to touch Brittany around her father, but considering both parties, Angelica couldn't picture a way in which things could have turned out better.

And Brittany was behaving wonderfully, Angelica noticed. She kissed Santana softly on the cheek whenever Mario was turned the other direction and Santana's back was tense. She laughed and joked and kept the conversation flowing between the two of them, just like she used to after one of their infamous fights. She danced around the house, acting carefree and seventeen again. Angelica marveled at the way the girl could turn tension into joy, just by being in the room.

Of course, Brittany was ecstatic that her girlfriend and her girlfriend's father were talking again. She was _so_ happy for Santana. And sure, she felt the tension, and the hesitation between both of them, but she was convinced that in no time they'd be back to their squabbling ways.

The two Lopez's had always had a very… verbal relationship. Often times Santana and her father showed that they loved each other by arguing. It was just the way they worked. Their arguments were the fuel to their somewhat dysfunctional relationship.

Of course, never any big fights. Just little, heated disputes between the two were all that was needed to keep them smiling. Santana used to say that her father was the only person who could match her blow-for-blow verbally.

Brittany was a little bit anxious to get them spatting again. Hopefully not about anything serious like their relationship, or Santana's sexuality, but it was always good to have them free, and open, around each other. As of right now, they were both treading on eggshells, afraid of disturbing the delicate balance they seemed to have struck.

Brittany may not have been the smartest, but like Santana had always said: she knew people.

Dinner was relaxed. Santana found that to be nothing short of a miracle. True, they didn't have the light, care-free, joking table discussions that the Pierce's did, but considering the hostility and animosity surrounding the foursome just a few hours previously… yeah, it was a miracle.

No one yelled, no food was thrown, and everyone managed to make it through with a smile on their face. Santana held Brittany's hand, on top of the table, the whole time, and only received 2 glances total from her father. Each one was accompanied by a small smile.

Somehow, over the course of a few hours and one very distressing story, Mario had become civil, and quite honestly _pleasant_, towards Santana. She was loving it.

"Well," Santana finally said, stretching a little, "this has been kind of an emotionally taxing day. I think we're gonna turn in for the night." Mr. and Mrs. Lopez nodded, both smiling slightly at Santana. She kissed them each once on the cheek. "Goodnight Mami, goodnight Papi."

"Goodnight Mija." Mario whispered against her cheek.

Brittany then, shuffling her feet a little anxiously, bent to kiss both adults on the cheek, as well. Neither seemed surprised by the gesture, nor by the fact that the tall girl seemed anxious. They just said their goodnights, and Santana and Brittany headed off to bed.

Only once they were out of ear shot completely, and up the stairs, in Santana's room, with the door shut, did Mario mention the one thing that was bothering him.

"Are we alright with having them sleep in the same bed?" He whispered, barely audible, afraid his daughter might hear.

Angelica's mood sank a fraction, and she sighed deeply. "Mario, it doesn't matter that they're both girls…"

"No," he interjected, "not that. It's the fact that we're letting our daughter sleep in the same room, the same _bed_, as her girlfriend. Aren't we supposed to… I don't know… make rules about that?"

Angelica had to bite her fist to stop herself from laughing. "Oh Mario, they live together!"

"I know that. But shouldn't we be making them sleep in different rooms? Whenever my sister brought home her boyfriend, my mother always made them sleep in different bedrooms until they were married."

Angelica rolled her eyes. "This is hardly the same thing. Santana and Brittany… they're in it for the long run. They're _already_ practically married. And do you think Santana would really let Brittany sleep in the guest room, while she stayed in _her_ room?"

"Well that's why I didn't say anything. I didn't want confrontation. But don't you think…?"

Angelica reached across the table and patted Mario's hand. "We don't need to worry about either one of them getting pregnant. They're young, they're in love, and we just had a marvelous day with our daughter and her girlfriend, for the first time in three years. I don't think we really need to worry about putting them in separate beds. But it's sweet of you to think about. Now, if those girls are half as exhausted as I am, we won't need to worry about them doing anything other than sleeping for a long, _long_ while."

Mario sighed. "Maybe you're right. And I know I'm being silly…"

Angelica shushed him. "You're being a _father_, which is more than what you've done in a long time, Mario." She kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, you know that?"

He smiled. "I love you too."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana flopped down on the bed, grinning like a fool. Brittany collapsed next to her, both of them still completely dressed. Brittany sighed deeply.

"That was incredible, San."

"I know Britt, I know. He didn't yell _once_. He barely even looked at us funny! Can you believe that _that_ man in there is my father?"

Brittany smiled and kissed Santana on the cheek. "He was being awesome tonight. He was totally cool, and, yeah, a little tense, maybe, but considering…"

"Considering the past three years, I'd say that was pretty fucking unbelievable!"

"Santana you know I don't like it when you curse." Brittany scolded halfheartedly.

"Oh yeah?" Santana mumbled, rolling over and perching on top of Brittany, pinning her to the bed. "Because I find it dead sexy when _you_ curse."

Brittany giggled. "Santana, please, I'm _so_ tired…"

Santana kissed her pulse point, knowing exactly where to nip softly to get Brittany's back arching.

"Santana…" She moaned, only this time, even _she_ wasn't sure whether it was a plea to stop or to continue.

"Mmm?" Santana mumbled into her skin, moving her mouth slowly up the curve of Brittany's neck, to her jaw, and then finally up to her lips.

When she pulled away and started kissing back down her girlfriend's body, Brittany managed to gasp, "Santana, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Santana whispered against Brittany's collar bone. "They're both downstairs."

"Yeah, but they have to walk past here to get to their room." Brittany found herself breathless as one of Santana's kisses made her lose her train of thought. "And… and your dad… he'll… what will he do?" Brittany murmured, confused.

"No idea." Santana managed to get out before claiming her girlfriend's lips softly with her own.

"He'll… he'll hear us San… and… Oh God, don't stop!" She wound her fingers in Santana's long dark hair, keeping Santana's lips, tongue, and teeth, going after the same spot on her neck. It was making Brittany's toes curl.

"What's this about my dad hearing us?" Santana whispered.

"Who?" Brittany managed to gasp. Santana smirked, before returning her attention to her girlfriend's body. And that night, Brittany forgot her own name, as well.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, and I make no money off of these stories.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N****: **_**THIS IS NOT MY ORIGINAL STORY!**_** The ideas, as well as the first few sections, come from the author **1964-2010**. I adopted the story, edited it, and added onto it **_**WITH THE AUTHOR'S PERMISSION.**_

**If you want to read that story, (just a heads up, it's incomplete), it can be found here:**

**www (.) fanfiction (.) net/s/7424796/1/A_Matter_of_Miserable_Time**

**(Minus the spaces)**

**Thank you so much to the wonderful **1964-2010** for allowing me to take this incredible story and make it my own. You deserve all the credit for this amazing story idea. Thank you and enjoy!**

A Matter of Miserable Time

The sun woke Santana. She had forgotten that her windows faced east. When she was still in high school, she had to practically beg her parents to buy her heavy-duty, ultra thick black curtains, so she wouldn't be woken up any earlier than was strictly necessary.

In their New York apartment, Brittany and Santana's shared bedroom windows all faced west, or northwest. They never had to worry about closing their curtains before going to sleep.

In the haste of last night's… _activities_…Santana had forgotten to close her blinds. She doubted anyone had touched them in years.

Santana blinked the sleep out of her eyes, squinting at the harsh morning light. She rolled over slowly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the otherwise dark room. She looked around, taking everything in.

Everything was the same. In fact, she could see that there was a thin layer of dust over most of the room.

Her room still looked messy. Was it possible that messes could hang around for three years? The items on her dresser were scattered haphazardly. When Santana had been forced to move out of her house, she couldn't take everything that she necessarily wanted.

Her dresser was littered with hair spray bottles, make up that was years old, a brush, hair ties, and a few bracelets. There was a large lamp in one corner, the shade tan with white, horizontal stripes. Santana wondered briefly if it still worked.

There was still that tacky rug on the floor. It was some kind of animal print; tiger, or zebra, or something striped, Santana wasn't sure. She had never taken the time to find out.

Her closet door was thrown open, and there were clothes spilling out of it; clothes Santana hadn't seen in three years. There must have been a reason she didn't take these things with her. They didn't fit, or she didn't feel like wearing them that week… Santana would never be sure what she had been thinking back then. As she looked at the old clothes, she felt a wave of nostalgia overtake her as she gazed at her old clothing items. Of course, she would never even think about wearing most of the stuff _now_… but still.

There were two figurines on her wall. She hadn't even thought about taking them when she moved out. They were both women, or at least, vaguely woman-shaped. One was white, and the other red. Santana wondered how her father could have seen them and _not_ questioned her sexuality. She actually thought she remembered him buying them for her.

Her wallpaper is dark green, and it has a print on it that Santana always identified as cheetah. She had no idea why her room was so dark, or so animal-heavy, but she thinks it had something to do with her metaphorical 'wild side', and desire to rebel against her parents.

There's even some sort of Rasta-poster on the wall. She never really looked at it. She mostly had it on her wall on some sort of principle; after all, Brittany had given it to her.

It has some Bob Marley looking guy on it, with dreds and round sunglasses. The background is striped, green yellow and red, the Jamaican flag. It's some poster saying 'Live the Revolution', or 'Join the Revolution' or something like that… definitely something to do with a revolution. She would check, but the poster is hanging on the wall above her head, and checking would involve sitting up, or craning her neck in an awkward way, and she _really_ didn't feel like a neck cramp so early in the morning.

Santana sighed. Her room looked untouched, frozen in time for all these years. She doubted the housecleaner had even been in here.

What had stopped her parents from coming in?

Were they afraid that they'd find some sort of crazy lesbian sex-dungeon? Were they afraid they'd see evidence of Brittany all over the place, in pictures or in the decorations? Were they afraid of remembering _her_, their only daughter?

The room was dusty and cold. It was obvious that it had been uninhabited for a long time. This room was not welcoming; it wasn't home. It would never be her home again; it would probably never be anyone's home again.

Santana sighed for what felt like the millionth time. She couldn't tell if being in this room was wonderful or terrible. Right now her brain was sleep-muddled, and overloaded with memories, both good and bad.

She felt someone stirring next to her. Santana almost jumped out of her skin; being in this room again, after so long, had made her forget about falling asleep next to Brittany the night before.

She rolled over and watched Brittany as she slowly emerged from her dream. Brittany yawned and blinked a few times, her tongue darting out to moisten her dry lips. She smiled when her eyes met her girlfriends'.

"Hey." She croaked, her words coming out raspy.

"Hey back." Santana whispered, leaning over to kiss her softly. "What's up with your voice? Are you sick?"

Brittany shook her head. "I guess it's just sore. I did a lot of screaming last night."

Santana grinned, a little proudly. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not. And neither am I."

Santana kissed her again. "Do you think my parents heard us?"

"I think the whole _street_ heard us."

Santana didn't know whether to be amused or terrified. "Do you think they'll say anything about it?"

Brittany shook her head. "Your parents have more class than that."

"I don't know Britt… my mom brought it up before…"

Brittany chuckled. "She had a good reason to do that. No, don't worry. I'm sure you're safe from embarrassment. Plus, I'm sure your mom still has extra ear plugs lying around."

Santana groaned and rolled over onto her back. "You're so not funny."

"I'm a little funny." Brittany smiled and slid on top of her. "And you're beautiful." She mumbled before leaning down and kissing her softly.

Santana smiled against Brittany's lips. "You're not too bad yourself."

Brittany giggled. "Have I ever told you how unbearably sexy you are the morning after?" Brittany asked, reaching a hand up and combing her fingers through Santana's unkempt hair.

"Once or twice."

"Well you are." Brittany kissed Santana's forehead, and then nose, then jaw, before bringing their lips back together. "I have trouble controlling myself."

"You don't have to control yourself." Santana gasped, arching her back as Brittany's lips found a certain spot on her neck.

Brittany made a noise in the back of her throat. "You're right." She slid her thigh between Santana's legs and moved it higher, higher, until… almost….

There was a loud rapping on Santana's bedroom door. Brittany jumped so high that she almost fell off the bed.

"Girls!" Mrs. Lopez called through the door. "It's time to wake up! Breakfast is ready downstairs!"

Santana groaned and leaned her head against Brittany's shoulder, her heart hammering at an unhealthy rate.

"I'll be back in five minutes if you aren't downstairs by then. And next time, I'm coming in!"

Brittany sighed. "Damn, she knows us so well."

"She must be taking lessons from Quinn." Santana grumbled.

Brittany burst out laughing. She kissed Santana once on the nose, before leaping off her and starting to pull on her clothes.

"How can you be so full of energy?" Asked a very frustrated Santana.

Brittany shrugged. "I guess I'm just happy. Plus, I'm super hungry. And my throat still hurts."

Santana let her head fall back against the pillow. Brittany threw a shirt at her and it fluttered to a landing directly on top of Santana's head.

She blew air up in a puff, making the shirt fly up in the middle, before resting back on her face. Brittany giggled. "Come on silly, put your clothes on."

Santana grumbled under her breath as she stood up, stretched, and started to pull random clothes onto her body. "I really hate my mom right now."

Once she was fully dressed, Brittany linked their hands. "Be nice, Santana. Your mom goes into the hospital today."

Santana slapped her forehead with her free hand. "Dios, it's Thursday already?" Brittany nodded. "I'm a terrible daughter. We haven't even done anything for her! This whole time it's been about us and my dad and…"

"Shhh Santana, calm down. I'm sure she's fine. Here, we'll spend the morning with her, and then we'll take her to the hospital. She doesn't have the surgery till tomorrow, so we can sit in her room with her, watching silly Spanish soap operas on T.V. that I can't understand."

Santana breathed deeply. "Thanks, Britt."

"I know how much you like schedules."

Santana managed a small smile. "You're amazing."

"I know." Brittany winked at her before skipping out of the room, practically dragging Santana out behind her.

Santana laughed and allowed herself to be pulled down the stairs and into the kitchen. She couldn't help but feel relieved to find her mother, and _only_ her mother, there, setting the table for- Santana glanced down at it, and felt more relief wash over her- three people.

No matter that she was now speaking to her father, and being in the same room with him without screaming, or cursing, or anybody being labeled a 'sin', she was still uncomfortable around him. And he still judged her relationship. She saw enough of that last night.

"Where's Papi?" She felt the need to ask.

"He had to go down to the hospital early. He's just finishing some last-minute things, getting everything ready for my surgery tomorrow. And he's going to be taking a lot of time off work, and he needs to make sure all of his patients are taken care of." Santana nodded. Her mother smiled and changed the subject swiftly. "So how are you two?"

"We're good, Angelica." Brittany croaked out, before reaching for a glass of orange juice and downing it in one.

Mrs. Lopez eyed them both. "Rough night?" She asked, her eye twinkling mischievously.

Santana blushed profusely, but Brittany, being ever a tad bit naïve, just nodded. "I knew she'd say something." Santana mumbled, too quiet for anyone to hear.

"What was that, Mija?" Her mother asked slyly, as if she knew exactly what her daughter had said.

"Nothing, Mami. So when are you going in?"

Her mother checked the clock above the microwave. "At about two thirty. We still have hours." Angelica gestured to the table, indicating that Brittany and Santana should sit. They both did, and Angelica piled their plates high with eggs.

"Are you sure you don't want us there with you tomorrow?"

Angelica shook her head. "The surgery will take all morning. And after that I should be on pain killers and unconscious all afternoon. Besides, I don't want you to miss a chance to see your friends. I'm sure you've really missed them."

"You're more important, Mami." Brittany nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

Angelica smiled. "That's really sweet of you Mija, but even if you were there, I wouldn't be able to remember. I'll be on too many medications to be able to tell the difference between you and a lamp. I want you to go and have fun. You can come visit me Saturday afternoon, that is, if your hangovers aren't too bad." She said, winking at them.

"I won't drink." Santana said adamantly. Both her mother and Brittany shot her disbelieving looks. "It's true! I don't wanna go see you with a splitting headache and bloodshot eyes. Besides, those florescent lights are death when you're hung-over."

Brittany snorted into her food. She knew exactly what Santana was talking about. She'd had to deal with terrible hangovers while at school, and she knew exactly what those lights made you feel like.

Her mother smiled. "Well that's awfully sweet of you, Santana. I find it funny that now that it's legal for you to drink you've decided to stop drinking."

"Whoa, hold up now. I never said I stopped drinking. Seriously, don't spread rumors like that. It does terrible things for my street cred." Santana said teasingly.

Brittany rolled her eyes, which did not go unnoticed by Santana. She stuck her tongue out at her blonde girlfriend, who mirrored her.

"Honestly girls, sometimes I can't tell how old you are."

Brittany winked at Santana over the table, and slid her foot across the floor to nudge slightly against hers. They played footsie for the rest of breakfast, thinking that they were being discrete.

Angelica rolled her eyes. Seriously… they had a glass table…

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

The morning passed faster than Santana had anticipated. Every time she was with her mother these past few days, time had seemed to speed up. Maybe Santana was just less aware of it because of how thrilled she was to be finally talking to her mother again.

Pretty soon the three women were eating a light lunch, gathering a few of Angelica's things together, and driving over to the hospital.

Santana and Brittany had flat-out refused Angelica's prodding to go off and do something 'fit for twenty-one year olds', instead insisting on taking her in and getting her room set up.

As Santana pulled into the hospital parking lot, she mumbled under her breath, "I hate hospitals."

Brittany reached over the center console and laced their fingers together, giving a reassuring squeeze. She wasn't a fan, either. Then again, who can honestly say that they like being in a hospital, smelling the disinfectant, seeing all those people wheeled by…? It always reminded Santana of death.

Santana had her mother's duffle bag thrown over her shoulder and Brittany gripped in her left hand as she trailed timidly behind her mother, who seemed unfazed by entering the pristine white building.

"Hello." She said to the man at the reception desk. "My name is Angelica Lopez; I'm here for my preparation for surgery tomorrow."

He nodded at her and glanced down at his list. "We're admitting you to room 356, which is on the third floor." Angelica nodded. He glanced behind her at Brittany and Santana. "Your guests can go up with you for about five minutes, but then the doctor needs to come in, ask a few questions, and get you all settled in." Angelica nodded again. "It says here that your husband works here?"

"Yes, Doctor Mario Lopez."

The man behind the desk nodded again. "He's allowed to stay with you for the rest of the night. And he would usually be allowed to be in the operating room with you, but because he's taking an official leave of absence after today…"

"No no, that's fine. I won't be able to remember, will I?"

Desk-man smiled slightly, and said, "Not if the doctor does her job right."

"And I have full faith in that. So I'll just head up to my room, yes? Do I need a bracelet or something?"

Desk-man shook his head. "The doctor will give you one when she goes in to check on you in a few minutes. Head on up and get unpacked. And don't worry Mrs. Lopez, everything will be just fine."

Angelica smiled at the man. "Thank you, that is very sweet of you."

Santana watched this whole scene unfold, impressed by her mother's demeanor and poise. She herself was freaking the hell out, and had no idea how she'd be reacting, if their positions were flopped.

Santana felt a light tugging on her hand and looked down. Brittany was standing in front of her, pulling slightly against her girlfriend to urge her forward. Santana's feet finally caught up to her brain and they followed her mother into the elevator and up to the third floor.

The room was as expected. There was one bed, directly in the center. It had white sheets, a white pillow, and looked very cold to Santana. There was a bedside table to the left of the bed, but it didn't have anything on it. There were a few ominous looking machines all around, and Santana was a little worried. Why did her mother need all those machines? What did they do? Were they going to be keeping her alive?

There was a door inside the room, which upon further inspection revealed a bathroom. There was one window in the corner, which Santana realized was pretty pointless, because it was invisible from the bed. She supposed that it was visible to the visitors, but still. There was one big chair, directly next to the bed, and Santana couldn't decide if it looked extremely comfortable or painful.

There were also 2 other metal chairs in the room, the kind Santana hadn't seen since high school. Great, three chairs. Which meant 3 visitors at a time. Which meant she would have to be in here with her father.

Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe this would force them to bond, and talk, and be supportive of her mother. Though her and her father and Brittany all in one room together… that usually ended in fights, with the obvious exception of last night, and even then, it was uncomfortably close to an explosion for Santana's taste.

Her mother went and sat in the big chair by the bed and grimaced. That answered Santana's question about whether it was comfortable or not.

Brittany was humming to herself and dancing around the room, unpacking Angelica's bag. She put a few books on the bedside table, some extra socks on a shelf on the wall, as well as slippers, a hair brush, a tooth brush, and a stuffed animal that she had insisted on packing.

Angelica smiled at the blonde girl who was so lost in her own world. "Thank you very much, Brittany." Brittany just smiled in response.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" Angelica called.

A middle-aged woman, probably only a few years younger than Angelica herself, walked into the room. She smiled at the woman in the chair. "Good evening. My name is Doctor Reid, and I'll be your primary physician tomorrow."

"It's lovely to meet you, Doctor Reid, though I'm sure I would have preferred it under different circumstances." Angelica answered with a smile, extending her hand to shake the Doctor's.

Doctor Reid smiled. "Well I see your spirits are high. That's wonderful. We don't want you to be afraid of the surgery tomorrow. It's very simple, easy, and there's almost no risk." Santana liked her voice. It was soft and soothing; relaxing and always slightly upbeat.

"I'm guessing this is your daughter?" The woman asked, turning her attention to Santana.

"Yeah, Santana." She said, holding out her hand and taking Doctor Reid's.

"And who's this?" The Doctor asked, turning to Brittany.

"This is Brittany," Angelica said, "my daughter's girlfriend."

Doctor Reid didn't even react to the news. She just smiled and shook Brittany's hand as if she were anyone else in the world. Santana was thrilled.

"Well, I'm sorry to say this Santana, Brittany, but we have to do some prep work now, and I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

"What about my dad? When will he be here?"

"I'm sure he'll be by any minute now. I'll give you a minute to say goodbye to your mother and to wish her luck. She'll be back to good in no time, I guarantee it."

Doctor Reid backed out of the room, leaving it a little bit somber inside. Brittany was frowning sadly. She strode over and hugged Mrs. Lopez fiercely. "Good luck, Angelica." She said. "I'm sure you'll be just fine. And know that I'll be thinking about you for the rest of today and tomorrow."

Angelica kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you Brittany."

Brittany nodded and then headed for the door. As she passed by Santana, she paused, and said, "I'll wait down in the lobby for you. Don't be too long, okay?" Santana nodded. Brittany kissed her swiftly on the cheek and then left. The door clicked behind her.

Santana sighed. "I know you'll be okay." She said, a little to herself. "I know everything will be fine. But heck Mami, I'm still nervous."

Angelica chuckled. "You're nervous? I'm terrified."

Santana blinked. "But you were so calm…"

Angelica smiled. "I know dear. I'm scared, but I know that everything will be okay. So I'm not worrying about it. Or at least… trying not to." A tear was building in the corner of her eye. "Can you be strong for me, Mija? Be strong for your father, and for Brittany… and for me." She wiped the tear away before it could trickle down.

Santana hugged her mother tightly. "Of course I'll be strong. I love you Mami, so very much." She kissed her mother on the cheek and the door opened behind them, causing both women to pull away.

Mario was standing in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Santana, the doctor said you had to leave now…"

Santana nodded and hugged her mother once more. "I love you Mami."

"Te amo Mija." Angelica kissed her on the cheek and Santana pulled away.

"Bye Papi." Santana said as she passed her father in the door. They exchanged a sad look, and Mario placed his hand on her shoulder once, reassuringly, before Santana was out the door.

She didn't feel like crying, strangely. She thought she would be emotional, leaving her mother here, but now all she felt was anxious. She wanted it to be Saturday already, for this whole surgery mess to be done with, and for her mother to be getting better.

Santana sighed as she waited for the elevator. The hospital was so quiet. It was nothing like the ones in New York.

Santana had only been to the hospital twice in all her time living in the city. Once was the first time Brittany had caught her clothes on fire cooking. She had insisted that she was fine, but Santana had freaked out and _possibly_ over reacted and forced her to get checked out. And yes, she was completely fine.

The second time she lit herself on fire, she had flatly refused to go to the hospital, saying that she just took space from the people who really needed it. Santana hadn't been happy about that, but then Brittany said that, if she wanted, she could do her own examination, to make sure everything was okay. Santana forgot all about the hospital.

The second time she had been to the hospital was, oddly enough, with Rachel. Rachel had been driving a car (which was completely ludicrous, because that girl had a _chauffeur_, so why the hell was she driving herself anywhere?) and she had front-ended another car. Santana was sure that nothing was broken, but the emergency vehicle that had responded to the call had insisted she go, because she had knocked her head, and they thought she might have a concussion.

She didn't, but she did need four stitches in the cut right above her hairline. Rachel had broken her wrist.

Brittany had literally come bursting through the doors of the Emergency Room, her hair blowing about wildly, her eyes frantic. Santana said it was worse than it looked, which was true. It looked pretty bad when paramedics were holding a bloody bandage to your forehead and had you in a stretcher with your neck supported.

Santana had never seen Brittany so mad. In fact, she rarely _ever_ saw Brittany mad. But she had absolutely _screamed_ at Rachel for a good five minutes, which usually was Santana's job.

Rachel had apologized again and again, and once Brittany got over the initial shock of Santana's outward appearance, she apologized too.

The New York City hospitals were madness. There were people running about every which way, people being wheeled in, carried in, all bleeding in different degrees of intensity… it was a lot for Santana, who was used to the quiet chaos of the Lima Ohio hospital.

The elevator doors opened, and Santana stepped out into the lobby, immediately searching for Brittany. When she spotted her, Santana stopped, utterly confused, before the confusion turned to annoyance mixed with amusement.

Brittany was leaning against the reception desk, talking animatedly to Desk-man, who seemed enthralled by her very being.

Santana rolled her eyes and walked over, but decided to play along for a little while.

"Hey Britt." She said, alerting both parties to her presence. "Who's this?"

"Hey San! This is Brad. He's an intern here."

"Hey Brad." Santana said, holding out her hand and shaking his firmly (and perhaps a little roughly). "I'm Santana."

"Nice to meet you." He said before turning his full attention back to Brittany.

"Well we better be going." Brittany said happily, reaching down and taking Santana's hand. Because the desk was there, Brad couldn't see the movement.

"I was wondering if I could have your number. Maybe I could call you sometime, and we could go out?" Brad said hopefully.

Santana growled under her breath.

Brittany smiled at him and said, "I'm sorry Brad, but I'm dating someone." She gestured her head to Santana, who gave him a sarcastic smile and a wave.

Brad blushed bright red. "Oh, sorry. Of course. I'll just… I'll see you around then?"

Brittany nodded and pulled Santana out of the hospital.

Santana was pouting a bit once they got out into the main road, but Brittany was just laughing. She smiled and kissed Santana on the cheek. "Stop pouting. No matter how adorable it is, I hate it when you sulk."

Santana cracked a small smile. "I hate it when other people hit on you, especially boys."

"And I hate it when other people hit on you." Brittany said, swinging their interlocked hands between them as they walked to the parking lot. "But I know that you'd never even dream of being with anyone else."

Santana smiled and kissed Brittany on the cheek. "You got that right. And it better be mutual."

"Don't worry Santana, it is."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

"Where do you want to go?" Santana asked as she pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

Brittany shrugged. "Maybe we should go hang out with Quinn? I mean, you know how tense she gets around her mom…"

Santana nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Can you call her, tell her we're coming?"

Brittany nodded and reached for her cell. She dialed Quinn's number quickly, already knowing it by heart.

It rang twice, before a breathless Quinn picked up on the other end. "Hello?" She gasped out.

"Hey Q. What were you doing? You sound like you just ran up four flights of stairs."

"Two, but that's neither here nor there."

"Why were you running up two flights of stairs?"

"Wait, Quinn was _running_?" Santana said incredulously. "Put her on speaker." Brittany hit the button and Quinn's heavy breathing was instantly filling up the car. "Quinn, you haven't run since high school." Santana could practically hear Quinn's eyes rolling through the earpiece.

"Hello to you too, Santana. And yes, I was running. I heard my phone ringing and I needed to answer it."

"Desperate much?" Santana mumbled under her breath.

Brittany giggled, and Quinn shot, "I heard that." Santana bit her lip to keep from saying anything else. "And yeah, maybe I'm a little desperate. My mom's gotten… _clingy_."

"Clingy like Rachel Berry clingy, or like sloth clingy?" Brittany asked brightly.

"Rachel Berry clingy."

Santana groaned, picturing the dwarf trailing around behind her. "You know we're going to see her tomorrow at Puck's party, right?"

Quinn laughed. "Don't even pretend that you don't like her, Santana. I saw all her playbills in your room, and I _know_ Brittany would have dragged you to see them. You are so whipped."

"Everybody keeps saying that like it's a damn insult, but you know what, Q? I kinda _like_ being whipped. It's better than having Frankenteen as your lap dog."

Quinn groaned. "No Finn-talk, please. It's going to be awkward enough seeing him tomorrow."

"You think it's awkward for you? He lost the big V to me! It's literally impossible for him to forget me. At least if he sees you tomorrow, he can pretend to not remember your name."

"He thought I was pregnant with his baby Santana, you don't just forget that."

Santana pulled to a stop in front of Quinn's house.

"Oh yeah! Quinn, San and I are out front. That's why I called. I wanted to say we were picking you up."

"WHAT? Why didn't you just say that? I'll be down in three." And the call ended with a CLICK.

Brittany giggled. "Quinn's funny."

Santana smiled. "Yeah, she's alright."

"Santana? What's it gonna be like tomorrow?"

"What do you mean Britt?"

Brittany fiddled with her hands in her lap. "Well, I mean, we went to high school with all those kids, but besides Rachel, Quinn, Kurt, and Puck like two days ago, we haven't seen any of them. And we kind of slept with half of them…"

Santana chuckled. "Don't worry Britt, it won't be that weird. Everybody's gonna be really chill. Besides, they were all dating each other way back when. I'm sure some of them are still together."

"I don't know…" Brittany paused for a second, "what if they try to get together with us? Like, what if Finn tries to hook up with you?"

Santana shrugged. "Then I'll punch him in the balls."

"And what if Artie tries to get together with me?"

Santana growled. "Then I'll kill him."

Brittany reached her hand across the center and placed it on top of one of Santana's, which was clenching the steering wheel. "As terrifying as that sounds, and as much as I don't want you to kill Artie… that was actually really sweet of you."

Santana blushed slightly. "What can I say? I'm a romantic at heart."

Brittany laughed and kissed Santana softly. The back door popped open, and the two girls jumped apart, startled.

Quinn was sliding into the back seat, a revolted expression plastered to her face. "You're disgusting."

Santana rolled her eyes. "You're just jealous of our relationship, Quinn."

"Only because I wish I could land someone as fine as Britt." Brittany giggled and Santana glowered.

"Low blow, Q."

"What? I was complimenting your girlfriend, you should be complimented too."

"Back off my woman Quinn."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not interested in your woman? Now, if you could find me a nice guy on one of your crazy outings… then we'll talk."

Brittany bounced in her seat excitedly. "We should set her up with Brad!"

"Who the fuck is Brad?" Quinn whispered to Santana.

"He's the intern at the hospital!"

"Yeah, and he hit on you B." Santana said as she pulled out from in front of the Fabray's house.

"Uggh, I don't want your pass offs Brittany!" Quinn mock-complained from the back seat.

"Hardly a pass off…" Santana mumbled under her breath.

Brittany pouted. "Awww, he was really cute Quinn!"

Santana scrunched up her nose. "I didn't see it."

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Well you're not exactly the most reliable of sources, are you? I mean, there's the whole him hitting on your girlfriend thing… and the lesbian thing…."

"Alright, do you two want to do something, or do you want to go back to the hospital and call _Brad_?"

Quinn leaned forward in her seat and whispered in Brittany's ear, "She's really no fun, is she?"

"Quinn, I am this close to chucking you out of the car."

"Oh you don't have the balls to do that."

"Don't push me." Santana gritted through clenched teeth.

"And don't tease _me_. Come on Lopez, you still the badass you were three years ago?" Santana visibly deflated. Quinn nodded triumphantly. "That's what I thought."

Brittany just chuckled. She missed their banter. "How's your mom Q?" She asked, trying to steer the conversation somewhere comfortable and where hopefully no injuries would occur.

Quinn kind of half-smiled. "She's okay, I guess. I think she's kind of lonely. My sister doesn't really visit all that often, and neither do I… and my dad's an ass wipe."

"Boy do I know what that's like." Santana muttered. Brittany shushed her.

"Sometimes I think she just wants us around more. But we're not her little kids anymore. I mean, my sister's got three kids of her own and about to pop out another one."

Brittany squealed. "Ohh I love kids! How are they? When's the last time you saw them?"

"Uh, I think the last time I saw any of them was when my sister had half of a soccer ball in her stomach."

Brittany gasped. "How did she swallow a soccer ball?"

Quinn and Santana laughed. "No Britt," Quinn said smiling, "I just mean that she _looked _like she had swallowed a soccer ball, 'cause you know, her being pregnant and everything."

"Well that's a silly thing to say. How do you know what it looks like if someone's swallowed a soccer ball? Have you ever s_een_ someone with a soccer ball in their stomach?"

Quinn shook her head, still smiling. "I'm not gonna win with you, am I?"

Santana shook her head and made eye contact with Quinn in the rearview mirror. '_Not a chance.'_ She mouthed. Quinn bit her lip to stop from giggling.

"And speaking of little demon spawn… I mean _kids_," Santana said sarcastically, "how's Beth? When was the last time you saw her?"

"It was a few weeks ago. Shelby's been really good about sending me pictures and letters, and I talk to her on the phone at least once a week, and we Skype about every other week. She's so big now… she's almost 5. I can't believe it. Puck swears she looks more and more like me every day."

Brittany and Santana smiled. "It's good that you still keep in touch with her and Puck." Brittany said happily. "You're kind of like this super cool family! Except you're not really family at all, are you?"

"I don't know what we are, B."

"Well I think you're a family. Like me and Santana."

Santana and Quinn once again made eye contact in the mirror. Quinn gasped and pretended to be shocked. "Santana, did you finally do it?" Santana cocked an eye brow. "You finally got Brittany pregnant!"

She reached behind her and slapped at Quinn's leg but missed every time, while Brittany laughed so hard in the front seat that she almost fell off of it.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

It was a few minutes later that Santana realized they had been circling the town for the past half hour. "Okay, seriously, what the hell are we gonna do? I'm bored as fuck and you two aren't helping."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"You know if you keep doing that Q, your eyes might stick."

"Oh bite me Santana. Once yours are finally stuck staring in opposite directions, then I'll know it's time to worry."

"We're getting nowhere. Can you pull over to the side so we can talk, San?" Brittany asked quietly. And Santana couldn't say no.

She parked under a tree, across from the park they used to visit when they were little kids. Quinn made a whip-like sound from the back seat. Santana glared at her, trying as hard as she could to appear like her old, bitchy self, but she couldn't hold the face, and ended up grinning alongside her blonde-haired friend.

"So what are we gonna do Santana? I'm truly very thankful that you saved me from my mother, in case I didn't make that clear. You know what she was doing when you called?"

"No, what?" Santana asked, trying to appear uninterested.

"She was talking about polishing all the crucifixes we have in our house. _All_ of them, Santana! There are like fifty, all scattered around the place. And they're all different sizes!"

Brittany bit her fist to keep from laughing.

"Pure torture." Quinn mumbled. "I've got nothing against showing my love for God, you both know that, but geez, there's a fine line between enthusiasm and obsession."

"You still doing that 'born-again-virgin' thing Q?"

Quinn made a face and shook her head. "I tried it for a while… but it was _so_ hard once I started college, you know? Well maybe you don't know…" Brittany and Santana made eye contact in the front seat and smirked at each other. Quinn stuck her tongue out. "Gross. How does every conversation we have turn into your sex life?"

Santana shrugged. "It's not _my_ fault you secretly wanna get up on this." She said, gesturing down at her body.

Quinn snorted. "Oh you wish, Santana."

Santana pouted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think we should get some lunch. And then afterwards, we can come pick my sister up from school, and hang out with her. What do you guys think?" Brittany cut in quickly.

Santana shrugged smiling. "Sounds like a plan, B. What about you Quinn? Do you mind hanging out with Britt's little sister for the afternoon?"

Quinn beamed. "Of course not. You know how much I love Katie. How's she doing, by the way?"

"She's good. You know, it's almost the end of her junior year, so she's all stressed about exams. And she's got this secret kind of boyfriend that she's totally been hiding from all of us!"

Quinn blinked, clearly startled. "What? What's his name?"

"Tyler. And apparently he's a lot like Puck."

Quinn grimaced along with Santana. "Goodness, I hope she's being safe."

"I'm sure she is. She was around with the whole uh… baby-gate thing." Santana said, a little awkwardly.

"Blech, don't call it that Santana. But seriously, I hope she's not in over her head."

Brittany sighed. "Me too. So… lunch? Where do you wanna go?"

"Can we head to the Lima Bean? I think the coffee guy there wants to give me his number."

"Quinn, you do realize he's probably still in high school?" Santana said even as she pulled out from under the tree.

Quinn shrugged. "So? It's still nice getting hit on. I wanna make sure I don't have a mom-body."

Brittany glanced back and looked Quinn up and down critically. "Nah, you're still superhot Quinn. I mean, if I didn't know Beth, I wouldn't have thought you'd ever had a baby."

Santana, with her eyes still on the road, said, "Your ass is a little big."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana and Brittany sat at an empty table inside the Lima Bean, while Quinn was up at the counter. She insisted on getting all of their food.

"Do you think the coffee guy's really gonna give her his number?" Brittany asked as they watched Quinn flip her hair over her shoulder.

Santana was watching the dude behind the counter in the stupid apron. His mouth was open, and his eyes glazed over, as if he couldn't believe what was happening to him.

"Eh, probably not. I don't think his brain is even working right now. And Q's too good for him. I mean, she's in college, and she's got a real-person job. She doesn't deserve a Lima loser."

Brittany smiled sadly at her girlfriend across the table. "You know Quinn might still have been living here if she had listened to Puck and kept her baby."

"Do you think she wishes she had, sometimes?"

Brittany looked back over at Quinn, who was lounging against the counter and waiting for their drinks. "I doubt it. I think Beth's had a much better life because of Shelby."

"Yeah, she's had a better life, but don't you remember senior year? Quinn went bat shit crazy. Puck really fucked with her head."

"I think she misses seeing Beth every day. She loves her, you know? But… she knows how well Shelby provides for her, and she's Shelby's daughter. Even if Quinn gave birth to her."

"Yeah, but does Q know that?"

Brittany nodded. "Without a doubt."

Right then Quinn walked back over to the table, holding a tray with three coffee cups on it, as well as three sandwiches piled high.

Santana tried not to make a face as she grabbed hers. "You do realize this food sucks, right?"

Quinn laughed. "Who cares? It was totally worth it." She turned her cup around to face Santana. _'Jeremy: 555-9840 Call me :)'_ it read.

Santana laughed. "He actually drew a smiley face on it? What a dork."

"Again, who cares? I totally got a phone number!"

"So are you gonna call him?" Brittany asked as she sipped her coffee slowly.

"Psshh," Quinn scoffed, "not a chance. Complete loser. The dude still plays '_World of Warcraft'_."

Santana snorted. "Come on Q, he was totally digging you! And why didn't you let us come up with you? Afraid we'd try to steal him?"

"Hardly."

Santana waited for a few seconds, and then, once realizing Quinn wasn't going to say anything else, prompted, "So what was the reason?"

"Come on Santana, two hot lesbians? I didn't stand a chance. He'd be too busy watching you suck face that he wouldn't even notice me."

"Well I could always go up there and make out with you, Quinn." Brittany said innocently, putting her hand on Quinn's arm sincerely.

Santana frowned from across the table. "I don't think I'm cool with that."

"What, you've never fantasized about your girlfriend with someone else?'

Santana almost spit out her coffee. She coughed and sputtered, her eyes watering. "What the fuck Quinn? _No._ Nobody gets to touch Brittany but me."

Quinn turned to Brittany. "And how about you? Ever wanna watch Santana with another girl?"

"Are you offering?" Brittany asked. "'Cause I think you're supposed to be asking Santana that."

Quinn pulled a face. "Okay, point taken."

"You're the one always complaining about our conversations ending up in sex, and you're _totally_ the one that starts it, every single time."

"…Okay, so _maybe_ I have a little bit of a morbid fascination with your sex life. I mean… what's it _like?_"

Santana and Brittany blinked at each other. "Wait… wait _what?_ Quinn… uh…."

"I'm just saying! It's like… I don't really get how that… you know…."

Brittany gripped Quinn's hand and looked her in the eye, sincerely. "Quinn… there's this thing called internet porn. Watch it."

Quinn yanked her hand back while Santana cracked up. "Alright, dropped. No sex-talk. How's your food?"

"Nice save Q. We're never going to let you live this down."

Brittany smiled and placed her hand on top of Santana's across the table. "Never ever."

Quinn groaned and dropped her head onto the table. "I've made a huge mistake."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

The three women were sitting outside of McKinley. It was 2:07, and the bell was set to ring at any moment. Quinn was still nursing her coffee, though it was bound to be cold by now. Santana didn't know why she didn't just chuck it. She thought that Quinn was secretly thinking about calling Jeremy.

Santana and Quinn were sitting side-by side on the benches. Brittany was perched in Santana's lap, with her arms wrapped around her girlfriend's neck.

They were jarred from their conversation by the bell ringing loudly. Almost the second it was done sounding, the doors opened and students began trickling out.

"How do they get outside so fast? There aren't any classes around here." Quinn muttered.

Santana rolled her eyes. "So they skipped class a little early, sue them. I did that all the time in high school."

"But we don't want these kids to turn out like you, now do we?"

"HEY!" Santana shouted, deeply offended.

"Santana, look over there." Brittany muttered, pointing towards the flag pole about 100 yards away.

Santana squinted against the sun, but managed to figure out what Brittany was trying to get her to see.

Standing under the shadow of the school were two people talking. One of them was Katie, and the other was a tall, muscular boy, who was wearing a basketball jersey.

"Must be Tyler." Santana said, shrugging, and turned to talk to Quinn again.

She felt Brittany's weight jolt from her lap, and Santana whipped her head around to watch her girlfriend run in front of the school. "Britt!" She tried to call, but Brittany was moving too fast. "Oh hell." She muttered, pulling Quinn up and hurrying after the bouncing blonde.

Brittany slid up to her sister, slightly out of breath, and beamed. "Hey Katie!"

Katie jumped, caught off guard. "Jesus Britt, don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry."

"What are you doing here?"

"We're picking you up!"

Katie furrowed her brow, looking confused. "Who's we?"

Brittany gestured behind her to where Santana and Quinn were walking up at a much slower pace.

"Santana! Quinn!" Katie exclaimed, running to hug the latter. "I haven't seen you in forever! I love the haircut, by the way."

"Thanks Kate. I missed you too."

Brittany pouted. "I didn't get a hug."

"I'll hug you B." Santana said softly.

Brittany smiled at her and pecked her on the cheek instead. "So who's this?" She asked her sister, gesturing with her head towards the boy that she knew to be Tyler.

"Oh…" Katie cleared her throat awkwardly. "This is Tyler. Tyler, this is my sister Brittany and her girlfriend Santana, and that's their friend Quinn."

Tyler smiled at the three of them, and even shook their hands. "It's nice to meet you. Katie's told me all about you."

"You mean she talks about us in _public_?" Quinn gasped.

Tyler chortled. "She can't shut up about her awesome sister, and her sister's awesome friends. You didn't mention that Santana was her girlfriend, though."

Katie furrowed her eyebrows, obviously thinking hard, and utterly confused. "I didn't? I swear I must have mentioned it… I mean, how could I not have said it…?" She trailed off, talking more to herself than to the other four people. "Oh San, Britt, I'm so sorry! I'm not ashamed of you; you know that I'm not! I swear I mentioned it, I swear I told people! I must have!"

"Hey chill out Kate." Santana said, rubbing her arm and smiling at her. "We're not offended. It doesn't matter that the whole school doesn't know that your sister has a girlfriend. Tell whoever you want. And if you don't wanna tell anyone, then that's fine too."

"But I'm not trying to hide it! I'm fine with everyone knowing, really I am!"

"I know you are Katie-Bear." Santana said softly. "And that's all that matters to me and Britt." Brittany nodded solemnly behind Santana.

"Well alright… if you're sure…"

Quinn filled the silence by directing a question at Tyler. "So you're on the basketball team then?"

"Yeah. Did you play?"

Santana and Katie snorted. "No," Santana said vehemently, "Quinn couldn't even compete in gym class. She was crap at sports."

"I was the head cheerleader! That's hardly crap at sports!"

"You were a Cheerio?" Tyler asked, not sounding as surprised as he probably could have. "That's awesome. Wait… you're not Quinn Fabray, are you?"

"Yeah… I am. Why?"

Tyler grinned at her. "Coach Sylvester always talks about you guys! She calls you the 'Unholy Trinity'! So _you_ must be Santana Lopez!"

Santana and Quinn looked at him oddly.

"Sorry, I get that this is a little creepy. But Coach Sylvester tells stories about your year, and the Glee Club, and how it stole her talent… she's still mad at Mr. Schuester for making her lose Nationals."

"It was her fault for making us quit." Santana muttered under her breath.

Just then another boy sidled up to the group. "Hey Tyler." He said, high-fiving his friend. "Hey Katie." He said.

Katie nodded tightly to him, her jaw clenched.

Santana watched the interaction curiously. Katie didn't seem to like this guy, which immediately put her on edge. Katie liked _everybody_. Seriously, the only person more trusting and loving than Katie was her older sister.

"Hey Kyle." Tyler said pleasantly. "What's up?"

"Nothing, just came over to see who you were talking to." He leered at the three adults. Santana could feel Brittany stiffen next to her, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Quinn's smile fall, only to be replaced by an unfriendly scowl. Suddenly Santana felt very much like she was back in high school.

"Who are these lovely ladies?" Kyle asked, his eyes falling down Santana's body and resting on her chest. She fought down a shiver.

"That's my sister Brittany," Katie answered, pointing, "and her friend Quinn, and her girlfriend Santana."

Kyle's eyes shot up. "Wait, who's whose girlfriend?"

"Santana," Katie pointed again at the brunette, "is dating my sister Brittany." Brittany gave a small wave.

A sneer overtook Kyle's already unpleasant features. "Your sister's a dyke? What the fuck, Pierce? I thought they sterilized people like that now."

Both Katie and Santana snarled, but it was Tyler that acted. He grabbed his friend's collar and pushed him up against the flag pole, shaking him roughly. "Shut the fuck up Kyle. You don't get to talk like that, you asshole." His fists tightened against the fabric, pulling his friend a little higher up. "Watch your mouth, or next time I'll knock all your teeth out, so you can't talk anymore. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

They had drawn quite a bit of attention to themselves. The kids still left at school were all watching with rapt attention, their mouths open wide.

Kyle nodded, his eyes wide with fear. "Look dude, I'm sorry. I didn't… you know… I didn't…."

Tyler made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. "Get out of my sight. You're making me feel sick."

The second he released him, Kyle was scurrying off, probably to hide in shame. Brittany, Santana, Quinn, and Katie were left to stare at Tyler, open-mouthed.

Tyler dusted off his hands and turned back to the four girls. He faltered a little when he saw all of their expressions.

"I'm sorry, was I over stepping?"

Katie shook her head, still awe-struck.

Santana cleared her throat. "As much as I appreciate what you did Tyler - and believe me, it was _super_ badass - you really shouldn't be getting into fights with your friends because of us. Plus, I kind of wanted to kick his ass."

Tyler half-smiled and shrugged one shoulder. "He deserved it. I hate it when people talk like that."

"That's really awesome of you Tyler, and I can totally appreciate it," Quinn said, "but it's not every day that you meet a kid in Lima Ohio that's okay with two people in a gay relationship."

Tyler ran a hand through his hair. "My older sister's a lesbian. I saw how school was for her. No one deserves that, especially not now that you got away from this shit-town." He glanced down at his watch and jumped a little. "Listen, it was really great to meet you, and I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but I have a game in half an hour. Maybe I'll see you guys around?"

"Yeah, you can count on it!" Brittany said, smiling widely at him.

Tyler moved as if to embrace Katie, but seemed to think better of it, and instead gave her an awkward little wave, before running off.

Brittany watched him go with a care-free expression on her face. "Definitely keep that one."

"You think so?" Katie asked, biting her lip to try and hide a smile.

"Totally kick-ass what he did for us today." Santana said, linking her arm through Katie's and leading her back to the car. "And he's nothing like Puck, what were you talking about?"

"Oh I don't know, Santana." Katie said contemplatively. "I think he's a lot like Puck. You always used to say that once you stopped sleeping with him, Puck became like your older brother."

"So this guy's like your older brother?" Quinn made a face. "That is so wrong."

Katie sighed, exasperated. "Stop twisting my words. I just meant that Puck used to watch out for you guys. He'd beat up any football players that tried to slushy you; he keyed your dad's car after he kicked you out… You know, he did stuff like that for you. Tyler does things like that. He looks out for ev_eryone_. He's pretty awesome."

"Girl, you can make even _Puckerman_ sound awesome." Quinn said. "You sure this guy's legit?"

Katie shrugged. "Santana likes him, and she hates _everything_ with a Y-chromosome."

Quinn chuckled. "Okay, then I like him too. I just want you to be careful."

Katie rolled her eyes. "Look, I know you're all looking out for me or whatever, but it's really fine. I like Tyler, and I feel like I can trust him. I promise that whatever we do, it'll be safe."

Santana bit her lip as they all climbed into the car. "Yeah, but like, don't have sex until you're thirty, or married."

Brittany and Katie both scoffed at her. "You and Britt have sex all the time!"

"But we're having sex with _girls_."

"And there's a difference? It's still sex. You can still get STD's from lesbian sex."

Santana rolled her eyes. "I'm not an idiot. I just mean, it's different having sex with a girl. Having sex with a boy is different. They're… rougher, sometimes. And they don't always… last very long… and they can get you pregnant!"

"Well that last part's definitely true." Quinn said from next to Katie in the backseat. "But I'm not sure I'd listen to Santana about the rest of it. She's not a very good judge about sex with men."

"Hey, I got around in high school."

Quinn smirked. "You know you just called yourself a slut, right?"

Katie cut in before Santana could reply. "So you're saying I can have as much sex as I want as long as it's with another girl?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Santana said, nodding and turning down Brittany's street in the car.

"No, that's not what she's saying at all." Brittany said, glowering at Santana. "She means that you can have sex, but you should be _comfortable_ with the person, you should _love_ them, and most of all, be _safe_. As much as we love her, we don't want another Beth around. No offense Quinn."

"None taken. I don't want anyone else to become a teen mom."

"Look," Katie said, hopping out of the car, "you guys are sweet, really. And as emotionally scarring and terrifying as this conversation is, and despite all of the years of intense psychotherapy I'm going to have to go through, I get why you're doing it. But I don't really need you to, okay? Can't you all just trust me?"

Santana made eye contact with the two other blondes. It was silent for a few moments before she replied, "Of course we can trust you Katie. Now come on, let's go inside. I wanna watch some T.V."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, and I make no money off of these stories.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N****: **_**THIS IS NOT MY ORIGINAL STORY!**_** The ideas, as well as the first few sections, come from the author **1964-2010**. I adopted the story, edited it, and added onto it **_**WITH THE AUTHOR'S PERMISSION.**_

**If you want to read that story, (just a heads up, it's incomplete), it can be found here:**

**www (.) fanfiction (.) net/s/7424796/1/A_Matter_of_Miserable_Time**

**(Minus the spaces)**

**Thank you so much to the wonderful **1964-2010** for allowing me to take this incredible story and make it my own. You deserve all the credit for this amazing story idea. Thank you and enjoy!**

**A/N 2:**** So sorry about the delay in updates! It's finals week for me and my writing time has been severely limited. So I apologize, and I hope that everything goes back to normal quickly.**

A Matter of Miserable Time

Santana dropped Quinn off at her house a good 7 hours later. They had all had a nice, quiet (by Pierce family standards) dinner and Santana figured it was time for her to head back to her house, and of course, Brittany was coming with her.

Santana didn't know if her father was going to be there or not. She figured he probably would be. And even if he wasn't, he was bound to show up sooner or later.

Santana and Brittany entered the dark and silent house. Santana breathed deeply. Her house was oddly calming when it was vacant.

Brittany ran her fingers through Santana's hair, brushing it to the side and off of her face. "How are you?" She whispered. That was the thing about being in empty spaces; it always made you want to be quieter.

"I'm fine. I had a really nice time tonight."

Brittany smiled. "Me too. I know my parents were glad to see Quinn. It's been so long since the three of us had dinner together at my house."

"Don't I know it." Santana paused and looked around the house. "Do you think I should make my dad some dinner? I'm sure he hasn't eaten… and Mami promised that he'd be back tonight."

"I think that's a good idea. I'll help you. I'm sure he'll appreciate the gesture."

Santana nodded and headed into the kitchen. "It's so weird being in here without my mom. Do you remember that time when we were like 7, and we decided that we wanted to make cookies in the middle of the night, and then we practically destroyed the place?"

Brittany laughed. "Your mom was so mad. She said under no uncertain terms were we ever allowed back in her kitchen without her."

Santana chuckled. "Oh we broke that rule so many times…"

Brittany nuzzled her girlfriend's soft neck and inhaled deeply. "How are you doing though, really? You haven't cried about it."

Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist and waited for a few seconds, weighing her words. "I'm… fine. And I'm not just saying that. I really am doing fine. I promised my mom I'd be strong for her. And it's not that bad, right? I mean… she's gonna live. There's almost no chance of her _not_ living."

"But that's not what your heart is telling you to worry about."

Santana bit her lip and shook her head 'No'.

Brittany kissed the top of her head softly. "Don't worry Santana. I'm here for you. Quinn's here, my family's here… and now your dad is here. We'll all get through this." It was quiet for another minute while Brittany rubbed soothing circles on her girlfriend's back. "Now come on, let's make your Papi some enchiladas."

Santana smiled at Brittany's attempt at a Spanish accent. It was pretty adorable, and cheered her up straight away.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Mario finally left the hospital that night at about 9:30. In truth, he would have stayed there the whole night with his wife, but the doctors told him that Angelica needed her rest. He needed his rest too. It was going to be a long couple of weeks. Mario doubted he would be sleeping very well for at least the next month.

He drove home in silence. Whenever his daughter or wife rode in the car with him, they always insisted on playing music. And they both had such beautiful voices… it had been too long since he had heard either one of them sing, too long since either had been happy enough to sing.

Mario blinked back a few tears. He didn't want to cry about this. He never cried. But everything that was happening with his wife, and with his family, was slowly dawning upon him, and he felt like he was drowning. It was so daunting; his wife's surgery, his daughter being home, his daughter's _girlfriend_.

There was a time when Mario adored Brittany. He loved her to pieces. And he guessed that somewhere, in the back of his heart, he_ had_ wished that Santana would find someone (albeit a male someone) who made her as happy as Brittany did. But there was never any hope in that. He had never met anyone remotely similar to Brittany. And besides, it wasn't like Santana would just go out and replace her best friend.

And Mario had thought their relationship was great. He was thrilled that his daughter had such a close friend. He never had any serious suspicions about them doing anything _overly_ friendly, because he thought he had raised his daughter right. He did raise her right, but that was too difficult for him to see three years ago.

He thinks his wife always knew. She was always adamant about giving Santana her space, and not pushing her to do things, and she never asked Santana about the boys she was dating. Every time he went upstairs to tell Santana and Brittany it was time for dinner, his wife always made him promise to knock on her bedroom door. He thought she was just being sweet and respective of their daughter's privacy. But now….

Mario shook himself. Thinking about this wouldn't do any good. Whatever Angelica knew of their relationship that she didn't share with him didn't matter anymore, because he knew they _had_ been in a relationship and that they still _were_ in a relationship. When it happened and when they told him wasn't really all that important, was it?

It still sort of stung. After they told him that they were together, and after he got his head twisted back on in somewhat the right direction, it stung, just a little bit, that they hadn't told him; that _no one_ had told him.

Can he blame them? Based on his reaction, Santana was right to hold off telling him for so long.

But there was still that little twinge in the bottom of his chest that made this whole situation that much worse, because Santana hadn't trusted him enough to tell him sooner. She had every right not to trust him, but he was her _father_, and he was always going to be upset when she didn't tell him things. That's just the way parenting works.

He pulled into his driveway and saw the other car there. No one drove that car but Santana.

He ran a hand through his thinning hair and took a few deep breaths. As long as she didn't see him acting this way, she couldn't be angry with him.

The air between them was still tense, and most of that was his fault. She was wary around him, and cautious, and he was just unsure. He didn't know what to say or do to make the situation better, and he didn't know if the next word out of his mouth would be the last straw for his daughter.

She was always hot-headed, as was he. His wife swears that it's a redeeming quality, most of the time. She says she loves him for all of his traits, good and bad. He's always felt this was a bad one.

But Angelica just laughs. She says that his temper just shows her how much he cares, that his stubbornness just proves his devotion, and his overprotectiveness just reinforces how much she is _his_. And she is his as much as he is hers.

Santana's found someone who loves her, flaws and all, and he knows that. And no matter how uncomfortable he still is with the situation, he loves that she has Brittany.

He fiddles with the key in the door for a few seconds before he realizes that it's open. He shakes his head and chuckles to himself. This whole situation has left him reeling.

He pauses for just one more second to pinch the bridge of his nose before he pushes the door open. What he's met with is enough to freeze him to the spot.

There's food in the kitchen, and on the dining room table, and the house smells _amazing_. "Santana?" He calls inside, looking around as if to check and make sure he was in the right house.

Santana poked her head out of the kitchen and smiled at him softly. He didn't like that smile. That was a look of pity, and he really didn't need pity, especially not from his own daughter.

"Hola Papi."

"Hola Mija. What are you doing?"

"Britts and I are making enchiladas."

Mario blinked and walked into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was Brittany, at the stove, stirring something around in a pan and wearing his wife's apron. It was oddly domestic. It worked for her.

She looked up at him and grinned. "Hey Mr. Lopez. Are you hungry?"

"Uh…" he blinked a few times and shook himself to try and get over how incredibly _normal_ it was to see Brittany in this role. "Yes, actually. Gracias."

Brittany smiled. "De nada."

Mario looked around. "So anything I can help you girls with?"

Santana shook her head. "We've got it all covered Papi. Why don't you go in and sit down? The food will be out in a minute."

Mario nodded and left the room. Santana watched his retreating figure and rocked herself back and forth slightly. Brittany followed her girlfriend's tense movement with her eyes.

"Go in there." Brittany said quietly.

"No. No, he's fine. I'll just stay in here with you."

Brittany kissed her on the cheek. "I won't burn anything, Santana. Seriously, I'll only be in here unattended for another two minutes. Bring your father some wine, _talk_ to him. I'm sure he needs it after today."

Santana sighed. "Alright. Okay, I'll go. Just… hurry in there please?"

Brittany smiled and nodded. Santana grumbled as she reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine.

She entered the dining room to see Mario sitting at his place, playing with his fork. Santana chuckled at the image.

His head shot up. "What's so funny?" he asked ruefully.

"Nothing." Mario quirked an eyebrow. "It's just… you look like a teenage boy that's about to meet his girlfriend's parents for the first time."

Mario let out one loud guffaw, before he restrained himself. "Do I really?"

Santana smiled and nodded. She glanced down to the bottle in her hand. "Wine?" She offered.

"Are you really offering me some of my own wine, Santana?" He asked teasingly. Santana rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably. Mario chuckled again. "I'm just joking, Mija. I would love some."

Santana hastened over to the table and poured a healthy amount in both of their glasses, before taking the seat opposite him.

"This is strange."

"What is?" Santana asked, sipping the drink slowly.

"This. Us. You being old enough to drink." Santana smiled. "It's nice being able to drink with you. I much prefer this to you stealing it out of the basement."

Santana blushed. "So you knew about that, huh?"

Mario winked at her. "Of course I did Santana. Why do you think I stopped buying good wine?"

Santana laughed. "I'm sorry about all the stuff I did when I was younger Papi."

He waved her off. "It's fine Santana. The past is past, and it is never good to dwell on it."

"Hakuna matata!" Brittany called from the doorway. Santana and her father both looked up to see Brittany there, carrying a heavy plate piled high with chicken.

A grin split over Santana's face. "Were you eavesdropping?"

"Eh, maybe a little." She winked at Santana.

Mario watched the exchange between the two with rapt fascination. In many ways it reminded him of his relationship with his own wife. He was always teasing her, and they were always joking back in forth. At least, that's the way it was before Santana left. He shook himself. Did he really just think of how similar his daughter's relationship was to his marriage? Lord how confusing this all was.

"Dinner is served." Brittany said as she put the still steaming plate in the middle of the table. She glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. "Well, I guess it's more like a midnight snack. But either way, it should taste good."

Mario smiled at her. "Thank you Brittany. It smells great." Mario immediately began to fill his plate with item after item of food. Santana and Brittany, though not very hungry, each put a little something on their plates too, so that Mario wasn't eating alone.

Mario took a bite and almost moaned. He was so hungry, and he hadn't even noticed it. When was the last time he ate? He didn't even realize that he was probably starving. All he had been able to worry about was his wife, and how tiny she looked in that hospital bed.

"It's delicious girls, thank you. I don't know how you knew I'd be so hungry."

Santana shrugged. "It was Brittany's idea." She said, sliding their hands together. Mario saw Brittany squeeze his daughter's hand slightly, and he could see Santana's thumb rubbing circles on the back of the blonde's hand.

Mario turned to her. "Thank you Brittany." He said sincerely, looking her directly in the eye. Santana beamed. Yup, things were going to turn out just fine for them.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

It was about twenty minutes later that Santana finally gave in to the questions she was burning to ask. "So Papi, how was Mom?"

Mario only paused his eating for a fraction of a second, but Santana could see that the notion was upsetting for him.

"She's being really incredible about this whole thing. She's so strong, and she's really taking it all in stride."

Santana nodded along. "So you're not worried for her?"

"Worried? I'm petrified. I'm going crazy being here while she's over there." Mario ran his hand through his hair again.

Santana couldn't help but watch the movement. It had always been a nervous habit of her father's, and she noticed that it didn't hold quite as much significance now that there was barely enough hair to catch on his fingers.

Santana took a moment to study her father; to really look at him. His forehead was creased, there were bags under his eyes, his nails were chewed short, and his hair was looking grayer and thinner than ever. He looked… _old_, older than Santana had ever seen him look. This was really tearing him apart.

Santana reached across the table and laid a hand on his arm. Mario looked up and his eyes met hers. He really hated pity. But in his daughter's expression… there was just something comforting about it.

"You look so much like your mother." He whispered, and his eyes started filling with tears. What if this all went badly? What if she relapsed? What if they couldn't get it all? What if he lost his wife? Then the closest thing he would ever have to her would be Santana, and Lord knows he was prone to fucking up _that_ relationship. "What if I lose her?" He whispered. "Santana… I can't lose her. I'd die if she was gone. Do you understand?"

Santana looked to her left, and her gaze briefly caught Brittany's. "Yeah Papi," she said, not breaking eye contact with her girlfriend, "I understand."

Mario buried his head in his arms and tried to control the sobs that were slowly building inside of him. Santana _hated_ seeing her father cry.

"Papi, it'll be okay. She's going to be just fine. There are good doctors there, and Mami's strong. She's not ready to leave us just yet."

Mario nodded and wiped furiously at his eyes. Santana rubbed his arm slowly, wanting to get up and hug him, but not knowing if she could.

Mario sniffled and stood up. "Thank you for the meal girls, it was excellent."

"Where are you going?" Brittany asked quietly.

"I'm just very tired. You can leave all this here, and I'll clean it up when I wake up tomorrow."

"That's really not necessary Mario…" Brittany trailed off and bit her lip, unsure if he would get angry with her for using his first name. He didn't even notice.

"It's fine. I just… I need to get some sleep. It's a big day tomorrow."

Santana nodded, even though by that time, her father's back was to her. He trudged slowly up the stairs, his movements slow and pained. Santana could hardly believe that this was the same man that had inspired so much fear in her heart only 3 years ago.

Brittany used the hand that wasn't held in Santana's to play with the other girl's hair. She brushed it back and ran her fingers through it, trying to comfort her girlfriend in any way.

Santana blinked rapidly a few times before smiling. "How about we clean this up, yeah?"

Brittany nodded and stood up. They didn't say much else as they cleared off the table and washed the dishes.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

They were in Santana's room, in her familiar bed, facing each other. Brittany had one of Santana's hands held loosely in hers, playing with her fingers. Santana just lay there and watched.

Brittany had a smile on her face. It was one that Santana had seen often, but that she never really understood. Sometimes, during the strangest situations, Brittany would get _this_ look on her face. She looked happy, and at peace, and Santana desperately wanted to know why.

"What's on your mind, Britt?" She whispered into the dark room. She saw Brittany's shoulders move up and down in a noncommittal shrug. "No seriously, what are you thinking about that's making you so happy?"

Brittany was silent, and for a moment Santana thought she wasn't going to answer. "It's just… being here, with your dad and everything… it sort of feels like the last months of high school, but done _right_, you know? Like, holding your hand when we go out to restaurants, and being able to kiss you on the cheek with your dad in the room, and joke about our relationship with Quinn… I kind of love it."

"I love it too B."

Brittany smiled a little wider and brushed her nose against Santana's. "I know it's terrible to be so happy, especially after today and everything your mother went through… but I can't really help it. I'm always happy with you, San."

Santana kissed Brittany softly. "I've never been happier than these past few years with you, Britt. Really, I haven't."

Suddenly, Brittany's smile turned, and a small frown overtook her face. Santana's forehead furrowed.

"Hey." She said, tipping Brittany's chin up a little bit. "Where did you just go?"

"Well, talking about how happy we are got me thinking about how happy we'll be in, say, twenty years…"

"I already told you I'm in this for life, B." Santana cut in.

"I know, I know, and so am I. But when Quinn was talking today, you asked her about kids, and you said 'deamon spawn'." Santana raised an eyebrow. Brittany blushed. "It's just… is that the way you really feel? Do you really hate kids?"

Santana blinked. "Britt, you know I was just teasing Quinn."

"But that's the thing about teasing San, there's always some little part of it that you actually mean. I don't want you to hate kids."

"I don't hate kids Britt. Sure, they're not my favorite, but they're not bad. Where's all this coming from?"

"If we ever decide to have a family Santana I don't want you to hate our baby!"

Santana's jaw dropped. Brittany blushed a deep crimson and buried her head in her pillow.

"Hey. Hey now." Santana mumbled, stroking Brittany's cheek and getting her to pick her head up. "Is that what you want, Britt? Do you want a family?"

"Of course I do San. I love kids. And I would _love_ to have your kid. I think you'd be a great mom, and I want that to be with me. Not that you aren't enough!" She was quick to interject. "But I would really like to have a family someday. Please don't hate me."

Santana lightly pecked her nose. "I could never hate you Brittany, and you know that. And I guess I never really thought about having a family… But I would do anything for you."

"You know I'm not talking about right away, right? I meant like, six to eight years from now." Santana nodded. "And I don't want you to do this with me because you feel like you have to. I want us to be a family because _we_ want it, together. I want _us_ to be ready. And I know that you generally hate babies…"

"I don't!" Santana interjected defensively. Brittany shot her a look. "What? I don't!"

"Santana, you can't stand the way they cry, and spit up, and forget about changing their diapers…" Brittany paused for a moment. "You know what, never mind. I'm fine with never having kids." Even as she said it, Santana could tell that it was ripping her apart.

"No, Britt. I _want_ to have a family with you. _I_ want it. And I don't hate all babies. I love Beth, don't I?"

Brittany smiled widely, but still rolled her eyes. "Everyone loves Beth."

"I wouldn't hate our baby." Santana whispered.

Brittany stopped moving. She stopped breathing, and she just listened. She listened to Santana's voice and the way it was quietly hopeful, and a little withdrawn. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do. I love you Brittany, and any child that we had… it would be the most beautiful thing in the world."

Brittany leaned forward a few more inches and brushed Santana's lips with her own. "I really love you, you know that?"

"I love you too."

Brittany slid closer to Santana's body and wrapped herself in her embrace. She breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of Santana, and allowed her eyes to get droopy with fatigue.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" Santana whispered from above her.

Brittany chuckled. "Yep, I'm totally carrying your baby right now."

Santana laughed, and ran a hand through Brittany's hair. "That wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"I don't know San; I think it'd be pretty bad. Not to mention completely freaky, 'cause I was pretty sure that was impossible."

Santana kissed the top of Brittany's head. "You're adorable. But please, no unplanned pregnancies? I think I'd wanna be married to you first, before you started popping out little blonde-haired, blue-eyed devils."

"I'm going to do you a favor and forget that you just called our future children devils." Brittany mumbled lightly into Santana's neck.

"Go to sleep Brittany."

"Mmmm." Brittany cooed, and held Santana a little bit tighter. "Will you still be here when I wake up?"

Santana kissed the top of her head. "Always."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

**This is just a short little chapter of fluff until the next installment. I really haven't had much time to write recently, and I'm sorry. Next chapter is the party with all the old Glee kids! Hope you're as excited as I am for that.**

D**isclaimer: I do not own Glee, and I make no money off of these stories.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N****: **_**THIS IS NOT MY ORIGINAL STORY!**_** The ideas, as well as the first few sections, come from the author **1964-2010**. I adopted the story, edited it, and added onto it **_**WITH THE AUTHOR'S PERMISSION.**_

**If you want to read that story, it can be found here:**

**www (.) fanfiction (.) net/s/7424796/1/A_Matter_of_Miserable_Time**

**(Minus the spaces)**

**Thank you so much to the wonderful **1964-2010** for allowing me to take this incredible story and make it my own. You deserve all the credit for this amazing story idea. Thank you and enjoy!**

**Note:**** I didn't really mean to bash Artie in this chapter, but it sort of came out that way… I'm really sorry and I hope you don't get offended by it.**

A Matter of Miserable Time

Mario was awake before the sun had even risen. His dreams had been flooded with terrible images of his wife, writhing in pain. His wife, with pale, waxy skin, slowly slipping away from him… and Mario just couldn't take it. So he got up.

He showered; he changed his clothes, did laundry, and cleaned his bedroom, all before making breakfast. Once he was done eating, it was still dreadfully early, but he thought it was a suitable time for him to appear at the hospital. Besides, Angelica was going into surgery at 8, and he wanted to be there with her beforehand.

Mario walked quietly up the stairs. He told himself that he just wanted to tell Santana where he was going and not to worry. Truth be told, a part of him just wanted to check and make sure that she was still there, that she hadn't decided all of this was too difficult for her and run off in the middle of the night.

He poked his head in her bedroom door. From his position, he could see Brittany cuddled into Santana's side, embracing her. There was something sort of beautiful about the image. In sleep, both girls looked far younger and more innocent than their years would indicate.

Mario smiled softly. He felt like he was really starting to accept where they were, romantically. Brittany and his daughter were obviously very serious about each other, and they were obviously very much in love, and Mario realized that he didn't feel nearly as conflicted now. Seeing them together, and watching them interact showed him something that he hadn't necessarily expected; Santana's happiness.

Mario tiptoed over to the bed and shook Santana gently, trying not to wake Brittany. Santana blinked and jolted slightly.

"Papi?" She croaked. "What's wrong?"

He held a finger to his lips, indicating that she should lower her voice. "There's nothing wrong, Mija." He said as quietly as he could. "I'm just headed in to see your mother. Go back to sleep, and I'll call you if anything happens."

"Are you completely sure you don't want us to come with you?"

He nodded. "It won't do you any good to sit there and worry with me. I promise I will call you the absolute _second_ anything happens. Go out today, and try and forget about all this, just for a little bit, okay?"

Santana nodded. Mario bent down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead. "I love you Santana."

"I love you too Papi."

"Be good." He whispered, and backed out of the room. Mario then hurried out of the house and hopped into his car, trying to get to the hospital as fast as possible. He desperately needed to see his wife.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

It was a few hours later that Santana and Brittany woke fully. When she glanced at the clock, Santana's stomach lurched uncomfortably. Her mother had been in surgery for an hour, and she had been sleeping the day away. Good Lord, she was a terrible daughter.

Brittany shifted against her side and grumbled, still stuck in the half-sleep, half-awake zone that fell between the moment when you woke up and the moment you opened your eyes.

"Hey Britt." Santana whispered.

"Hey." Brittany mumbled back, still keeping her eyes shut tight. "What time is it?"

"It's only nine. We can go back to sleep, if you want."

Brittany shook her head and arched her back in a deep stretch. "No, no I'm up. And I promised my dad that we'd stop by his office today."

Santana sort of groaned. "Britt, come on, your dad has like, the most boring job _ever_."

"Well I promised. And besides, I like the people he works with."

Santana stared at her incredulously. "Your dad works with criminals and large corporations."

"Hey, he works for the good guys."

Santana fought an eye roll that was threatening to overtake her. She loved Gordon, don't get her wrong, and she loved spending time with any of the Pierce family. But Gordon was a lawyer who worked for large companies, and he worked with other lawyers who worked for large companies. Sure, some of the time he was representing someone who deserved it, but most of the time it was just whoever had the biggest checkbook.

Brittany knew this. She was just very defensive of her father's work. She didn't like that a lot of the time he was defending people who were in the wrong. She said it gave him stomach ulcers.

And also, a lot of the guys at that office were old and creepy. Like, _really_ creepy. And sure, Santana found _most_ men to be creepy and unattractive, but most men didn't make her spine tingle with discomfort every time they leered at her. It was worse because Brittany didn't even seem to notice it. They could look her up and down and undress her with their eyes, and dear sweet Brittany would never even think twice about their intentions, and usually Santana loved that she was so innocent and trusting. But sometimes, she really wished Brittany could spot the warning signs. After all, she didn't want Brittany getting hurt.

She hadn't been to Gordon's office very many times in all her years of knowing him, but the few times that she had been hadn't been great for her. None of the guys would dare to do anything when the girls were sixteen (but that probably had more to do with the presence of Brittany's father than anything), but they were older now. Santana didn't really feel like spending the whole morning beating perverted old men off of her girlfriend.

Brittany seemed to sense her discomfort. "I promise we'll go straight up to his office and we won't talk to anyone on the way. Come on San, it's my dad."

Santana sighed. She knew she couldn't say no to Brittany. "Fine." She grumbled. "But I _will_ go all Lima Heights if one of them tries to grab my ass again."

"Santana that was one time, and I'm pretty sure you made it up."

"I did not! If your dad hadn't been there to catch my arm, I would have slapped him."

Brittany chuckled. "Whatever you say."

"Britt I'm serious! There are always guys trying to grab my ass!"

"Well can you blame them?" Brittany shot her a wink, and Santana felt the hands on her back sliding lower and lower. "I'd grab it too, if I were them."

Santana smirked and rolled over so that she was on top of Brittany. "Is that so?"

Brittany nodded seriously. "Oh yeah, consequences be damned."

Santana kissed her lightly. "You're the only one that gets to grab my ass, Britt."

"Well that's a relief. I was beginning to get worried you'd find someone else."

"Eh, I don't know. That Brad guy was pretty cute…" Brittany whacked her lightly on the arm. "Hey you said so yourself yesterday." She said defensively.

Brittany pretended to pout. "Well I changed my mind."

Santana kissed her again. "Don't worry Britt I would never go for Brad." Brittany perked up, before Santana shot in slyly, "I mean, maybe, if he wasn't a boy… but lucky for you I'm just not that into them."

Brittany growled and rolled them over quickly. Santana shrieked in surprise, before Brittany silenced her with a kiss.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Brittany and Santana were fully showered and in the car only thirty minutes later. They hadn't done anything past some heavy kissing up in Santana's room. It certainly wasn't for lack of trying, though. No matter how hard Santana insisted, Brittany flat-out refused to have sex with her.

Santana was grumbling as she turned the key in the ignition. "Seriously Britt, you got me all worked up and then… nothing."

"I showered with you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but you didn't _touch_ me."

"Look," Brittany said as she placed one of her hands on Santana's thigh, "We just need to get through today. My dad's office, Puck's party, and then I'm all yours for the rest of the night."

Santana groaned. "You could have been all mine this morning." She mumbled.

Brittany leaned across the center console and placed a light kiss to Santana's cheek. "You know I love you. But we can't be late. I promised my dad that we'd be there by ten-thirty, and I told Quinn we'd be at her house by five-thyirty."

"Wait, why do we have to go to Quinn's?"

"To get ready for the party, obviously."

Santana looked at Brittany incredulously. "You're kidding."

Brittany shook her head. "Definitely not. We're seeing these people for the first time in three years, and I wanna look hot."

"You always look hot."

Brittany leaned across the center again and spoke, lowly, in Santana's ear, "I wanna make them drool."

Santana gulped at her girlfriend's tone and tightened her grip on the steering wheel ever so slightly. "Yup, you got it." She half-squeaked. Brittany smirked. Santana looked to her right and caught the expression. "Oh shut up." She said, blushing bright red. Brittany chuckled.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

They arrived in front of Gordon Pierce's office half an hour later. "And would you look at that, fifteen minutes early. We totally could have had sex this morning."

"Santana, please. You hate rushing."

"I hate being teased even more."

Brittany rolled her eyes and got out of the car. She walked around to Santana's side and leaned against it, her arms folded over her chest. When Santana got out of the car, Brittany held out her left hand. Santana slipped her right one into it, squeezing lightly in a silent apology.

Brittany smiled. "You don't need to say you're sorry San. Now come on."

Much to Santana's surprise, they didn't meet anyone on the way up to Gordon's office. Their elevator was completely empty except for themselves, and the halls were basically deserted. Santana was thankful.

Brittany was pulling her along down the familiar hallway, past offices and cubicles and bathrooms. She was humming and swinging their joined hands back and forth as she made her way through the building.

Santana chuckled. "Slow down Britt, you'll miss it."

Brittany slowed to a more natural pace and stopped a few seconds later. She peered through the glass door to her left and saw her father sitting behind his desk, typing away at his computer. She knocked twice.

Gordon looked up and smiled brightly at the two girls. He gestured for them to come in, and stood up to greet them. "Hello Britt-Britt, Santana. I trust you had a good morning?"

Brittany smiled and nodded, hugging her father briefly. "Yeah, it was good. But we didn't eat breakfast this morning."

Gordon frowned. "Well why don't you go downstairs to the cafeteria? Then in a couple of hours we can all go get lunch. How does that sound?"

"It sounds great Gordon."

"Good. Actually, there's a reason I asked you both here, but we can discuss it over lunch."

Brittany and Santana shared a worried look. "Is this something bad?"

"No, no not at all. On the contrary, I think it's rather good. But we can talk about it later. I don't want to keep you from your food any longer."

Santana laughed. "Alright, thanks. We'll be back up in like, half an hour."

"I'll be waiting." Gordon said brightly.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

_Time Jump:_

"It's about time you got here!"

"Well it's good to see you too, Quinn."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Don't be like that Santana; I've been waiting for like, half an hour."

Brittany glanced down at her watch. "But it's only five-thirty now."

"You told me you'd be here at five Britt."

Brittany blinked. "I did? Oh, well then this is my fault. Santana and I were with my dad, and the meeting kind of went long."

"What kind of meeting?"

Brittany grinned hugely and Santana blushed. "My dad wanted to talk to Santana about a job opportunity once she gets out of college, and presumably law school."

Quinn froze with her mouth open. "Really? That's fantastic Santana!"

Santana shrugged, but she was smiling. "His firm is opening a New York office within the next few months, and Gordon's pulled some strings so that I can get an internship there."

"That's awesome! I'm so happy for you!" Quinn rushed forwards and hugged her friend tightly.

"Yeah, well I won't be getting paid or anything."

"But it's work Santana! And besides, internships almost always lead to real jobs, especially if you impress them."

"Which I'm sure you will." Brittany said brightly, sitting down heavily on Quinn's bed.

"Look, it's really no big deal."

"It's a huge deal Santana. This is your future."

Santana smiled at Quinn. "You're right, it is my future. And my future, thankfully, is in the future. This party, however… well I think it's about time we got ready for it, wouldn't you say?"

Quinn snorted. "Oh goodness… I can't wait to see how the Gleeks have fallen."

Brittany bounced up from the bed and started to dig through Quinn's closet. "I'm excited to see all of them. I missed Mike."

"Think he's still with Tina?" Santana asked, taking Brittany's recently vacated spot on the bed.

Brittany shrugged. "They were going strong when last I heard. But that was like two years ago, so who knows?" She paused for a few seconds. "So what are you gonna wear Quinn?"

Quinn shrugged and walked over to look over Brittany's shoulder. "No idea. I wanna look good, you know, but I don't wanna look like a slut."

Brittany nodded and rummaged for a few more seconds before pulling out a pair of dark skinny jeans and a green top.

Quinn eyed the clothes. "You really wanna go with green?"

"Oh, these aren't for me. They're for you. And yea, green totally works on you. It brings out the green in your eyes, and it always makes you look super-hot."

"You think?"

"I have to agree with Britt, Q; green's your color."

"And neither of you felt the need to tell me this before tonight?"

Santana shrugged. "I thought you already knew."

"Well then I'll wear this. Thanks Britt. What are you gonna wear?"

"Jeans and a tank top." Brittany said, walking back over to Quinn's bed and sitting down on it. "And I picked out a dress for Santana already."

Santana had been checking her fingernails, but upon hearing this, snapped her head up. "You already picked out what I'm gonna wear? I don't get any say?"

"Nope. You're gonna wear the dress I picked, and you're gonna look sexy as hell."

Santana laughed. "Okay B, I trust you."

Brittany nodded once and then turned her gaze back to Quinn. "What are you doing? Get dressed! I still need to do your hair and makeup!"

"You know I can do all that myself Britt. And what about you and Santana? Why aren't you getting dressed?"

"Because Q," Santana drawled, picking up a magazine and flipping through it, "Britts and I totally don't need as much work done."

Quinn glared at her. "You have to insult me every chance you get, don't you?"

Santana shrugged. "Who else am I gonna pick on?"

Quinn sighed and then left for the bathroom to put her clothes on. When she left the room Brittany started digging through the bag she had brought with them. She pulled a dress out of the bag and held it up in front of Santana triumphantly.

"Hey, I remember this…" Santana said, bringing her hand up to brush the bottom of the dress. It was black with large pink and peach roses placed haphazardly on it. Santana remembered that it went down to about mid-thigh. She hadn't seen this dress in years. She had completely forgotten she owned it.

Brittany nodded, smiling brightly. "I found it in your closet this morning. You didn't take it with you when you left, and… I don't know… I guess I just missed it." Santana didn't say anything. The smile slipped slightly from Brittany's face. "Did I do something wrong? Because you totally don't have to wear it… I'm sorry, it was a stupid idea."

"No, no it wasn't stupid at all Britt. Yeah, I'd love to wear it."

The smile returned full-force to Brittany's features. "Oh thank God. I brought your boots too, the short brown heeled ones. I thought they'd go well."

Santana smiled. "Thanks B. Do you want me to put it on now?"

Brittany shrugged. "Sure, I guess. Whatever you want."

Santana stood up and started pulling off the clothes she was wearing. Brittany reclined slightly on the bed and watched her hungrily.

"It's a little creepy when you do that." Santana said as she discarded her shirt.

"Would you prefer it if I looked away? I mean, I've seen you naked a thousand times."

"But I'm not naked."

"My point exactly. I mean, I'll turn around if you want…" She teased.

"Oh stop it Britt. You know you don't have to turn around."

"Hey, if you're not comfortable with your body…"

Santana growled. "Give me twenty minutes and I'll show you just how comfortable I am."

Brittany raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Oh really?"

Santana started to move towards the bed, but right then Quinn came strolling back in. "Oh for Christ's sake Santana! Not in my bedroom!"

Santana broke eye contact with her girlfriend and turned towards Quinn. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She feigned innocence.

"Oh please. I saw you and Britt giving each other your sex-eyes. And trust me I've walked in on _that_ too many times. I know all the warning signs. So please, just… not in front of me. And come on, this isn't even your house!"

"Sorry Q." Santana said, reaching down to pick up the dress that had fallen to the ground.

Brittany turned her gaze to Quinn. She smiled at the other blonde. "Oh yeah, totally hot."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Don't try to distract me. But thanks."

"Here, sit down. I'll do your makeup for you."

Quinn sat in front of her vanity and allowed Brittany to begin applying her makeup.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

It was hours later and Santana was pulling up in front of Puck's house.

"So did Puck actually tell you what time this started?" Quinn asked from the backseat.

"Not exactly. But I figure 8 is a good time. Nothing ever starts after 8, so there's no way we can be early." Santana looked up the lawn to Puck's house. "It's weird though. I can't hear music blasting from twelve houses away, and there are no drunk teenagers on the lawn. Are we sure this is a Puckerman party?"

"There are cars here, and the lights are on. It's definitely Puck's house…" Brittany looked over at Santana excitedly. "Come on! I wanna get in there and see everyone again!"

Brittany darted from the car, leaving an amused Santana and Quinn behind. They shared a knowing glance and hurried after their blonde friend.

Brittany was bouncing on the front lawn, excited energy seeping off of her. She grabbed Santana's hand and started to drag her to the front door.

"Come on San! Hurry up!"

"Brittany slow down! We're already here. You can stand to wait another five seconds, can't you?"

"No, I really don't think I can. Come on!"

Santana allowed herself to be pulled to the door. Brittany hit the doorbell and started gripping Santana's hand in a vice-like grip.

It only took a few seconds for Puck to open the front door, a red plastic cup in hand, and huge welcoming grin on his face. "You made it!" He yelled, pulling first Brittany, then Santana, and then Quinn into tight hugs. "Come on in, everyone else is already here. Well, except for Sam, but he went out to get more ice. Everyone's dying to see you."

Puck stepped aside and gestured the girls inside. Brittany and Santana entered holding hands. Puck glanced down at their interlaced fingers and then back up at their faces. He shot them a conspiratorial wink. "Everyone else has a bet going to see if the two of you are still together. Artie, Rachel, Sam, and Blaine say no, and Mike, Tina, Kurt, Finn, Mercedes and I all say yes. They don't know that I saw you the other day, or else they'd know I was cheating."

Brittany and Santana glanced at each other. Brittany was amused, but Santana was a little upset. "Those assholes, betting on our love life. It's worse that they think we're not still together!"

"I think it's funny San." Brittany said, rubbing the back of Santana's hand with her thumb.

"I think we should mess with them." Santana's eyes twinkled with glee.

"How?"

"We'll go in there not holding hands, but still talking to each other. I wanna see which one of them will crack first and ask us."

Brittany's face lit up. "Alright, I'm in."

Quinn stared at her in disbelief. "B you hate playing tricks on people."

Brittany shrugged. "Well they should have known that we would never break up."

Quinn just shook her head. "You two are insane. I'm not taking part in this."

"Aw don't ruin it for them Quinn!" Puck pleaded. "Please?" He pouted at her.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Fine. But this is just because I want to see the look on Finn's face as he tries to figure it out for himself."

Santana laughed. "Deal. Let's go see all our old friends, shall we?"

Quinn walked between Santana and Brittany on their way to the basement. As soon as they came into view, Artie whistled and Mike jumped up to embrace Brittany. Santana felt a lurch of anger in the pit of her stomach, but she shook it off. This was _Mike Chang_. If it was Artie who was swinging her around in the air like that, it'd be a totally different story. But Mike was Brittany's best male friend, and Santana trusted Brittany completely. She even thought Chang was a pretty decent guy.

Rachel was jumping around like an elf on crack, and the hobbit ran over to hug Quinn tightly around the middle. Quinn made a face.

The first person to hug Santana was Mercedes. The black girl walked over with a huge smile on her face. Santana brightened visibly.

"Hey girl!" Mercedes exclaimed, embracing her tightly.

"What's up Wheezy? I missed you tons."

"I missed you too!"

Surprisingly, the next person hugging Santana was Finn. He smiled sweetly at her. "Hey Santana."

"Tubbers." She said, but with a sincere smile on her face. Finn stuck his tongue out at her as they hugged.

"Porcelain, get your ass over here!" Santana yelled across the room.

Kurt's head whipped around. "I thought I heard your chains rattling Satan." Kurt kissed her once on each cheek. "It's been a few months, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, haven't seen you since the last Rachel Berry play you dragged us to."

"I think it was Brittany that pulled you to that, Santana."

Santana shrugged. "Eh, semantics."

Someone came trudging down the stairs, dragging a heavy bag behind them. "Trouty Mouth!" Santana called, running to hug Sam.

He staggered under the weight of her surprise attack. "Santana! I didn't know you were here!"

"Yeah, got here like four seconds ago." Santana pulled back and eyed Sam critically. "I see you haven't gotten your mouth-reduction surgery yet. Do you not have enough money? Because I can totally front you whatever you need."

Sam ruffled her hair. "I missed you Santana."

"I kinda missed you too."

Finn was glancing nervously between Santana and Brittany, which Santana pretended not to notice. She went around and hugged the rest of the old Glee Club, and even managed a fist-bump for Artie, though she really didn't like that dude.

She was pleased to see that he had begun to dress himself. He no longer wore khakis, a sweater vest, and an awkwardly tilted bow tie. She had to commend his new fashion sense.

Tina was also dressed in normal girl clothes, and not like an Asian/Goth/Vampire. Blaine was as short as ever, and his fashion sense had not improved. Santana rolled her eyes. Gay boys were always trying to be so fashionable, and only ended up looking like Ken dolls that didn't quite fit their costumes.

Puck's basement had been cleaned up, and more furniture and chairs had been brought in. Santana grabbed a cup of water and took a seat on one of the couches. She remembered her promise to her mother about not drinking, though she didn't know if she would be able to keep it with Artie looking at Brittany that way.

Finn flopped down in the seat next to her and shot her a happy grin. "Isn't it great, all of us being here, together again?"

Santana smiled back. "Yeah, it's pretty incredible. I forgot how much I totally hated all of you until right now."

Finn chuckled. "You missed us Santana, don't even try to deny it."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself Finnocence. So what have you been doing with yourself these past few years?"

Finn shrugged. "Not much to tell you the truth. I'm taking a couple classes at the local community college, I live in Burt Hummel's basement, and I work in his shop. It's been pretty boring without everyone around. What about you? I hear you've got some big fancy life in New York."

Santana smiled. "I think you're making it sound more interesting than it really is."

"Nonsense. Which college are you going to?"

"Columbia."

Finn's eyes bulged and he almost choked on his drink. "Jesus Christ Santana, that's seriously impressive! How come no one ever told me?"

Santana shrugged. "Guess you just weren't important enough to be in the loop."

"What are you studying?"

"I'm planning on law school. Next year I'm going to apply to the law department there. I think I have a pretty good chance of getting in."

"Christ Santana… you're smart."

"No shit Tubbers."

"No, but like… why didn't anyone ever talk about it back in high school?"

"I don't know." Santana shrugged. "I mean, I got all A's. I was in a Glee Club that won Nationals, and part of a nationally ranked Cheerio's team. No one seemed to take that stuff very seriously back in high school, but schools love to see that shit."

"Congratulations. This is really big for you, huh?"

"Yeah, you know, it's only my future. No big deal or anything."

Finn chuckled. "So how about dating life? Anyone special back in New York?"

Santana shrugged. "Not really." Finn's smile dropped. Blaine, who was sitting next to him, looked triumphant, until Brittany swooped in to save the day.

She plopped down in Santana's lap and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's neck. She kissed Santana firmly on the cheek. "Hey baby." She said. Santana fought hard not to pull a face. She hated when people called her 'baby', and Brittany knew that. Unfortunately, very few other phrases alluded to a relationship, and she knew that Brittany had had enough of not being next to her, holding her hand.

"Hey Britt." Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist and held her close. "You talk to Mike yet?" Brittany nodded. Santana glanced at Finn and Blaine, the former looking happy and smug, and the latter looking downcast.

Finn jumped off of the couch and whooped. "Alright everyone, fork it over. They're still together!"

Half the room groaned and the other half cheered. Brittany just pressed a chaste kiss to Santana's lips and leaned further into her.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

An hour later and the party was in full swing. It was less like the parties Puck had been known for in high school, and instead it was just a group of friends laughing, drinking, and joking around with each other.

They were sitting in a circle now, and a good portion of them were between tipsy and severely intoxicated. Brittany was a little ways past tipsy, and Santana was still basically sober. Besides a few sips of Brittany's drink, she hadn't had anything tonight.

"So wait, wait, wait," Artie was saying, holding up his hand and slurring his words together, "you're telling me that no one, _no one_, is in a relationship right now? Aside from Santana and Brittany, obviously." He added as an afterthought.

Everyone looked around at each other. Blaine and Kurt avoided eye contact. Their break-up hadn't been good. Brittany and Santana, who simply lived in the same _city_ as Kurt at the time, had heard all about it. Apparently insults were tossed, nasty things were said, and Blaine accidentally-on-purpose insulted Liza Minnelli. It was the metaphorical straw that broke Kurt's back.

Finn and Rachel had never really been in it for the long run. After that whole Finn-proposing debacle in senior year, things had just gone downhill. Rachel wasn't prepared for such a serious relationship before she reached stardom, and Finn wasn't prepared for a relationship with anyone like Rachel. They ended on good terms though, and from what Santana had heard they were still friends.

She was surprised about Mike and Tina; though she supposed that eventually even _they_ couldn't ignore how creepy it was to be dating your cousin (she didn't learn until late junior year that they weren't actually related, but by that time the idea had already been ingrained in her mind). They had the same last name for Christ's sake.

Santana knew that Quinn hadn't had a serious relationship for a few months. She went on dates, obviously, but she hadn't had a serious boyfriend since before Christmas.

She wasn't surprised that Artie didn't have a steady girlfriend. The dude was a dick.

Of course, that was being harsh. Santana had very much liked Artie until he started dating her girlfriend, and then… well after that he was dead to Santana, except he wasn't _really_ dead to her, because if he was already dead then she wouldn't get the satisfaction of killing him.

Mercedes and Sam had attempted to rekindle their summer romance towards the end of their senior year, but neither had really thought it would last. They knew that what they had was a one-time thing.

And of course, Puck could never be tied down to anyone. He had barely even tried with Quinn, and the girl had had his _baby_. Talk about cold. But no, Puck was setting up to be a bachelor for life.

What Santana never understood was why the kids in Glee insisted on dating each other. Seriously, she doubted there was a single couple-combination that wasn't attempted sometime in her three years of being in the club.

Glee Club always talked about being a family, but the last time Santana checked, it was against the law to date your family members and impregnate them.

The Glee kids were always digging through the same group of 12 people to find people to date, and that's why none of their relationships worked. Santana and Brittany were so perfect together because they were best friends first. They'd known each other for their whole lives, and they knew for a fact that they liked each other's company. You couldn't beat that.

Once they got older and they started getting interested in dating and kissing, it only seemed right that they should do it with each other. And as each stage progressed and their feelings grew, Santana knew there was never a chance she would find anybody else. Brittany was her best friend. She was more comfortable with her than with anyone else in the entire world. She had never loved or cared about anything more than Brittany.

It didn't matter that the Glee kids tried every possible combination they could think of, because every time they broke up and got back together, they had expected the other to have changed. It never turned out that way.

They didn't have anyone like Brittany.

Santana was holding Brittany's hand tightly in hers. She loved being so open with the Club. Even after everyone had learned about their relationship, Santana had still been afraid of being intimate and caring in public. High school was a battle ground, a feeding zone; you showed them even an inch of vulnerability and they'd rip you to shreds.

Santana wasn't afraid of them tearing her apart; she could take it. But Brittany was so sweet and fragile… Santana knew that they had to be careful, even after they were out. And now, being with the old Glee Club, talking about old times, she was holding Brittany's hand, stealing kisses, and feeling happier and more loved than she had in a long time.

"Who would have thought," Puck slurred in his half-drunk state, "that Britt and Satan would be the ones to make it?"

Santana smiled at Brittany. "I knew all along." She said quietly.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearing 12:30, and quite a few people had advanced to complete stumbling intoxication. Santana was proud of her sobriety. She was the only person left at the party who could remember her name.

Brittany really hadn't drunk much, but she could never really hold her alcohol. Santana was just thankful that she hadn't started taking off her clothes.

Rachel was hugging Mercedes tightly to her, saying, "You're my best friend, right?" But because she was so drunk, it came out more as "Yoouummm… my bessfriend, righ?" Mercedes was shaking with silent laughter and trying to get herself under control. It wasn't working.

She couldn't see Tina or Mike anywhere, and Santana was silently hoping that they weren't upstairs in one of Puck's room. They would just end up doing something they'd regret.

Sam and Finn were passed out on the couch. Blaine was playing some game on his phone and giggling. Kurt seemed to decide that now was the best time to walk around correcting everyone's fashion mistakes. Thankfully he walked right by Santana, his eyes gleaming and set on Rachel.

Santana's brow furrowed. Something wasn't right…

She took another glance around the room and mentally counted everyone. Where was Artie? Come to think of it… where was Brittany?

Santana felt anger and apprehension building in her chest. So help her, if he laid a finger on Brittany…

Santana shot up from the couch and strode from the room, knowing immediately where to look. Almost everyone was too drunk to walk, so there was _no_ way Artie could have gotten his wheelchair upstairs. That just left the back hallway, the one where the bathroom was located.

Santana poked her head around the corner and what she saw made her fists clench.

Artie was parked right in front of Brittany. He was so close to her, and she was trying to move away. She was backed in a corner, and looked uneasy. He seemed to be pleading with her.

"Oh hell no." Santana whispered, marching around the corner and towards the duo.

"Please Britt." Artie was saying, his eyes slightly crossed due to his inebriated state. "Give me another chance."

Brittany was shaking her head. "We dated like four years ago Artie. We're done. We've been done for a long time now. And besides, I'm with Santana."

Artie scoffed, and Santana stopped moving. She wanted to hear the rest of this conversation.

"_Santana_, please. She doesn't care about you Brittany, not like I do." Santana's nostrils flared. "I can treat you so much better than she can. I'll treat you right. I'll give you whatever you want. Just please take me back."

Brittany was still shaking her head, looking slightly sad. Santana's heart clenched in fear for a moment. Did Brittany regret them being together? Was she sad because she felt like she _had_ to turn Artie down?

But her next sentence cleared that up. "Artie it's been four years. Why haven't you gotten over me?" Santana almost laughed in relief. She was sad _for_ him, not _because_ of him.

"I thought I had. I was sure I had. But then I saw you tonight with _her_ and… I need you back Brittany. I haven't been happy with anyone since you."

"But you weren't happy with me." Brittany said seriously. "You were only with me to forget about Tina, and I was only with you to make Santana jealous."

'_It worked'_ Santana thought bitterly.

Artie's shoulders slumped. "I knew that's why you started dating me. I never tried to lie to myself about that. I knew you had been sleeping together for years, but… but I thought you kept dating me because you loved me. Didn't you turn Santana down because you loved me?"

Brittany bent down so she and Artie were the same height. "I loved you Artie, but I wasn't in love with you. I just didn't want to hurt you. You're such a sweet guy… I felt bad."

"I didn't want you to be with me if you were unhappy. But I wanted you to be with me. I still do."

"I'm with Santana. And I'm so in love with her it's crazy. I love my life with her. I can't leave her."

"You can't leave her because you're afraid of hurting her or because you're in love with her?"

"Because I'm in love with her."

Artie sort of growled. Santana tensed. "Look, your life with her can never be good enough! You know that! How are you going to deal with the looks people give you, huh?"

"I don't care about that." Brittany said, softly but firmly.

"And what about marriage? You think you two can get married? And what about kids? How are you going to have kids with her, Brittany? And what about when she gets bored of you and leaves? What are you going to do then?"

Now Santana was just furious, she started moving forwards, ready to push Stubbles McCripplepants off of a cliff, but Brittany beat her to it.

Brittany's eyes were burning with rage. "I love Santana, and she loves me. We don't need to be married to know that. And there are other ways to have kids, Artie. Santana loves me, I _know_ she does. You can't scare me away from her by bringing up things that I was afraid of in high school. I'm not afraid of Santana leaving me anymore. I know she wouldn't. She needs me as much as I need her."

Santana felt the anger leave her body. It was replaced with a kind of peaceful euphoria. She had never realized how much she liked Brittany standing up for their relationship. Maybe she wasn't as fragile as Santana originally thought.

She decided to step forward and end this ridiculous conversation once and for all. "Hey, Stubbles!" She called as she walked down the hallway more purposefully.

Artie and Brittany froze where they were talking. Artie turned his head slowly, a look of terror on his face. Brittany just looked relieved.

Santana grabbed Artie's wheelchair and pulled him away from her girlfriend. She stepped between the two of them and pointed her finger accusingly at him. "You back the hell off my woman, got it? It's been years since she dumped your ass, and it's time to move the fuck along. Get a new girlfriend, but stop pining after someone who's taken. And you're lucky I haven't seen you in so long, because I'm feeling a little nostalgic, and quite a bit generous. But come near her again, and I _will_ cut you."

She folded her arms over her chest and stood firmly in front of Brittany, who placed a feather-light hand on the small of her back. It had the desired effect. Santana immediately relaxed. She did not, however, back down.

"Move it Wheels," She growled at him, "before I dump you down Puck's stairs."

Artie glared at her fiercely. "She would have been happier with me."

Santana snorted. "As if. You don't know her like I do. _I_ make her happy. So get over it, please. Your pathetic-ness is making me woozy."

Artie pulled a face. "Remember what I said, Britt." He said, peering around Santana.

She took one step closer and whispered, murderously, "She won't need to. Now I suggest you get the hell out of here."

Artie looked angry, but he flipped his chair around and rolled off down the hall. After he had rounded the corner, Santana slumped back into the wall. Her hands were shaking from being clenched so tightly together, and her breathing was faster than normal.

Brittany walked up in front of her and embraced her tightly. She nuzzled Santana's neck and sighed softly. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Basically from 'please come back to me, I'm too desperate and can't find a girl stupid enough have me'." Brittany flinched slightly. Santana cursed. "Fuck Britt, I didn't mean you. Christ, you know I didn't mean you. You're the smartest person I know."

Brittany pulled back and smiled, a little sadly. "I know. And I haven't been called stupid since high school. But… this whole night feels _very_ high school, doesn't it?"

Santana nodded. "I know what you mean."

"I feel like you should be running away from me right about now. I half expect you to take off down the hall and jump into Puck's bed."

Santana shook her head fervently. "I told you I'm done running."

Brittany kissed her slowly but firmly. "I know; I really do. But it still feels like it, doesn't it?"

Santana took a deep breath. "Come on. Let's say goodbye to everyone and then go home. I miss my bed."

A small smile formed on Brittany's lips. "I like your bed. I've missed it too."

Santana kissed her. "Do me a favor, though? Don't hug Artie goodbye."

Brittany chuckled. "Sure Santana. Don't go making out with Puck now."

Santana pulled a face. "Please. I am _way_ too sober to do that." She linked hands with Brittany. "Well tonight's been quite an adventure, hasn't it? Lots of drama. I forgot how much our lives were like a Soap Opera."

Brittany chuckled and leaned into Santana. "Sometimes drama can be fun, but let me tell you, I definitely didn't miss all the fighting we used to do."

"Neither did I. It was good to see people though, wasn't it?"

Brittany smiled. "Yeah, it was great."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Collecting Quinn was a little more difficult than Santana had anticipated. She was so wrapped up in the whereabouts of her girlfriend that she had completely missed where her best friend had wandered off to.

Santana groaned. "Come on Q, where are you?"

Eventually Santana found her slumped on the ground in the kitchen. She had been digging through Puck's fridge, looking for something. Based on the whipped cream that was surrounding her mouth, she had found it.

Brittany peered down at her. "She looks like she has rabies. There was a dog on my street that had rabies one time. Are we going to have to shoot Quinn, too?"

"No, she's just fine Britt. The hangover's gonna be a bitch tomorrow, though. Here, help me carry her."

Santana and Brittany each grabbed Quinn under one of her arms and hoisted her up. It was a lot harder dragging someone out of a house than either girl would have guessed. It always looked so easy in movies. But Santana supposed that the actors could at least put their feet down in movies.

They stumbled out of Puck's house, looking very much like the drunken trio from their teenage years.

Santana grunted as she shifted Quinn into the car. "Jesus, the girl's tiny, why does she weigh so much? What's she made of, lead?"

Brittany smiled and linked hands with Santana over the center console. "And just think, we get to carry her up stairs next."

Santana groaned. "Oh, I hate drinking."

"You kind of love getting drunk."

"I do _not_ love it. I'm not an alcoholic. And yea, sure, alcohol is amazingly fun when you're drinking, but as soon as someone _else_ starts drinking… just… damn. I hate dealing with drunken people, too."

"Everyone hates that."

"Well me more than anyone else."

"Come on Santana, the faster we get home, the faster we can…" Brittany leaned over and whispered the last part of her sentence into Santana's ear.

Santana gulped, tightened her grip on the steering wheel, and floored the gas. She would risk a ticket, as long as she got Quinn into her house safely. And the faster Santana got Quinn home, the faster she could get Brittany into her bed.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

**A/N 2:** **In an attempt to get on a somewhat normal schedule, from now on I will do my best to upload a new chapter every week. Thanks for being so understanding and sticking with this! I especially love all the great reviews you guys are sending me! I literally live for them.**

**Also, I'm going to stop putting the Author's Note at the beginning of the chapter. But once again I'd like to thank **1964-2010**. You really are an incredible person and writer, and I would never have written this story without your genius!**

D**isclaimer: I do not own Glee, and I make no money off of these stories.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:**** Now that I've gotten this far, the time line is going to become more spread out, and the chapters will be shorter. The main drama of the story is basically done.**

A Matter of Miserable Time

Santana had hardly slept. After last night's party and drama and… other activities… Santana thought she would be completely wiped. But as Brittany drifted off next to her, Santana couldn't help but notice the resonating silence of the house, and the lack of her mother and father.

And that just got her thinking. It made her insanely guilty that she had spent so long not even sending a thought out to her mother, going the whole day laughing with Brittany and Quinn while her mom was in the hospital, under anesthetic, getting her stomach cut open.

Santana knew there was nothing she could have done. Thinking about it would have only made her more worried. It was better that she was with her friends, her girlfriend, forgetting her mother. Besides, if Santana was broody and upset it was bound to make Brittany feel the same, and Santana hated making Brittany upset.

But now, as she drove towards the hospital in the midmorning hours, Brittany's hand gripped ferociously in hers, she once again beat herself up over it.

Walking into the hospital made Santana's chest tighten. She thought for a moment she might be having a panic attack. But Brittany's soft hand in hers kept her grounded.

They passed Brad the desk-manager, and he shot them both a small, tentative smile. Brittany waved back, but Santana's stomach was twisting too much to do much more than grimace at him.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Brittany held her hand the whole elevator ride. Santana found that, as each floor passed with a loud 'Beep' in the silent elevator, her heart rate increased.

Finally she couldn't take the silence. "I'm freaking out, B." She said quietly.

Brittany squeezed her hand. "It'll be fine, Santana. She's out of surgery. The hard part's over with."

"But she still has to do chemo, and she'll be in the hospital for a week, bedridden for another month…"

"It'll be hard, San, but not impossible. You have to be strong, for your mom."

Santana took a deep breath and nodded. The elevator stopped. Her steps got heavier and slower as she drew closer to her mother's room. Time seemed to be slowing down. And as desperate as Santana was to see her, to make sure she was okay, she was dreading it with all her being.

Mario was standing outside of the room, his hands clasped in front of him. When he saw Santana, his shoulders relaxed, as if a ton of pressure was just taken off his shoulders.

"Oh Mija, you're here." Santana nodded. "She's resting right now," Mario said softly, as if he was afraid of disturbing the other people on the floor, "but you can come in. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you when she wakes up."

"Alright." Santana said. She cringed at the volume of her voice.

"I should warn you though; they've got her hooked up to a lot of machines. She looks a lot worse than she is, Mija."

Santana gulped. She didn't know if she could handle her mother looking terrible, but she nodded to her father, not trusting herself to be able to speak.

Mario grasped the handle and turned. The curtains were pulled around her mother's bed, so Santana couldn't see her. She noted in the back of her mind that she must be breaking Brittany's fingers with how hard she was squeezing, but she was too shaken up to care.

Santana cautiously walked around the curtain, and when she caught sight of her mother, she released a breath of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

She was so small. Had her mother always been that small? Or was it just the vast hospital bed that seemed to swallow her whole?

She was asleep, and Santana was grateful, because her eyes filled with tears, and she didn't want to make her mother upset too.

Her features were pale and drawn. She looked thin, and waxy, and far sicklier than she had when she left the Lopez residency two days ago. Her face was skeletal, but her hands and arms were swollen, and engorged. Santana glanced at the IV's, and made the connection that it was all the extra fluids they had her on that was making her look so bloated.

The smell was making her nose itch. It was sterile, but not like soap-sterile. It smelled… almost bitter. That was the best way Santana could describe it. It might have been the machines, or the medicine, or the clothes, or maybe that was just the way hospitals smelled. But for Santana, it was almost worse than seeing her mother in the bed.

This woman barely resembled the lively, jovial person Angelica had been. And now, to top it all off, she didn't even smell like her mother. How was Santana supposed to know that this woman was related to her? How was she supposed to take solace in her mother's presence, when it was hard to identify her?

But Santana didn't say any of this. She merely dropped Brittany's hand, walked over to the side of her mother's bed, and stroked the hair out of her eyes. Her head felt cold and clammy. A single, solitary tear dripped down Santana's face and splashed into the bedding, before she was able to shake herself, and gain control.

Only Brittany saw.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana wished she had brought something to do. The only activities available to her were counting the beeps on her mother's heart monitor, and people-watching in the hallways. Santana wasn't sure which was more morbid.

If her mother's heartbeat was off by even one over the course of a minute, Santana felt panic seeping into her stomach.

Brittany was there to dispel it.

People-watching consisted of viewing many old people, sick people, people missing limbs, or hobbling about with their terrified families and loved ones in tow, all trying to put on a brave face. Santana could hardly bear to watch it for more than a few seconds.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting in this tiny room with her parents and her girlfriend, but Santana was beginning to feel suffocated. It was too small, the whirring and beeping of the machines was too loud, her mother was too still…

Santana was desperate to speak, to talk, to joke with anyone who was willing to talk with her. But no one could bring themselves to break the silence. To break it would be to risk waking her mother. And when Angelica was looking so frail and thin, Santana was afraid she would not survive an untimely wake-up call.

Mario was twitching in his seat. Every slight adjustment Angelica made in her sleep had him springing to his feet. Santana was well aware of her father's hatred of hospitals, and she really couldn't blame him.

Still though, it set her on edge. Every ten minutes or so, Mario would leap from his seated position and step towards his wife's bed, only to shake himself off and sit back down a second later.

Finally, it got to be too much. Santana couldn't take the silence, or the tension, or her father's irrational reactions. She opened her mouth to shout, to yell and scream and make him _stop_, force her mother to open her eyes and reassure her, reassure all of them, that she truly was okay.

But she never got the words out.

Angelica shifted in the bed, and Mario tensed, ready to jump up. Before he could move, however, Brittany (who was sitting between his daughter and himself) placed her free hand softly on his forearm.

It shocked Mario into looking away from Angelica's unmoving figure, and down at himself, questioning the pressure on his arm. His eyes flicked up to Brittany's, and Brittany just shook her head slowly.

Mario slumped in his seat, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly. Brittany slid her hand down his arm, and slipped her hand into his. Mario's grip didn't adjust for a few seconds, but then Santana saw his fingers curl, and wrap around Brittany's.

Brittany was now holding hands of both Lopez's, being their anchor, keeping them sane. And Santana thought, '_Another twenty minutes couldn't hurt._'

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

It was much more than twenty minutes later when Angelica finally stirred. She had been on so many pain killers that she had been sleeping for over five hours.

She blinked slowly and heavily, her eyes glassy and out of focus. Mario was up and by her side before they even had a chance to adjust. He gripped her hand softly, a look of pure relief on his features.

"Mi amor," He whispered, "I was so worried. Thank the Lord you're okay."

Angelica seemed to have trouble comprehending what he was saying, but she murmured sleepily, so Mario didn't repeat it.

"How do you feel?" Mario asked. Angelica could only shake her head.

Santana and Brittany approached the bedside. "Hey Mami." Santana said, leaning down to kiss her mother's forehead. Brittany reached her free hand out and rested it softly on Angelica's.

Mrs. Lopez smiled. "Santana." She managed to whisper out, clearly pleased.

"Yeah Mami, it's me. I'm here. We're all here."

"Good… family…" Was all Angelica managed to say before her head hit the pillow and she was snoring.

"She's been doing that all day." Mario whispered. "She's been waking up, and she's lucid for about twenty seconds, and then she's out like a light again."

"This will get better Papi. I know it will."

Brittany glanced at the clock. "We should eat something." She muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

This seemed to get Mario refocused on something. "Yes, yes." He said. "Go down to the cafeteria and get yourselves some lunch. I'll stay up here with your mother."

"When's the last time you ate, Mario?" Brittany asked.

Mario shrugged. "Breakfast? Dinner? I'm not sure, it all sort of blends together."

Brittany frowned. "I'm bringing you food when we come back up here, and I will sit here and watch you eat it myself if I have to. You have to eat Mario. Nothing good could possibly come of you being malnourished and passing out due to dehydration."

Mario smiled. "That's sweet of you Brittany. But I'm really not that hungry."

"No excuses."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana hadn't wanted to go back up to the room so quickly. Brittany understood. They sat in the brightly lit cafeteria, Santana picking at her food, her head in hand. She looked exhausted.

Brittany nudged her foot under the table. "Hey." She murmured. Santana brought her head up, blinking herself out of a daze. "You okay?"

Santana could only nod.

Brittany glanced down at Santana's seemingly untouched plate. "You should eat something. Your dad too."

"I just…" Santana shoved the plate away from her, "I can't eat in here. It all smells… it smells like death, Britt. And my mom… did you see her? I've never seen her look that small. Jesus Christ, I'm about to lose my fucking mind…"

Brittany reached across the table and grasped Santana's hand. "I know San, I know." She said softly. Santana's eyes brimmed with tears.

"They didn't say it would be like this. No one ever said it would be this fucking scary. No one ever said…"

And Brittany watched as her girlfriend crumbled to pieces across from her, almost crying herself due to frustration, because she had no idea what she could do.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana calmed herself down in about a half hour. Brittany was feeling utterly useless, and hopeless. Santana was the strong one in their relationship. If Santana couldn't keep herself together… she was Brittany's rock. Without her, Brittany didn't know how to function.

She felt much better once Santana had stopped crying. They managed to smuggle some soup up in the elevator to give to Mario. Brittany hoped he would be more open to the idea of sustenance than his daughter.

They paused outside Angelica's room. "I… I can't B, not… not yet." Santana stuttered.

Brittany nodded and looked at Santana sadly. She tried to keep all pity out of her gaze, because there was nothing Santana hated more than being pitied. Luckily for her, Santana's eyes were too fixed on the door, her eyes panicked, to notice her girlfriend.

"Okay." Brittany said softly. "Okay. I'm going to take this into your dad, sweetie. I'll be out in two minutes. Can you wait for me?"

Santana nodded.

Brittany kissed her softly before darting into the room. She froze a little when she saw Angelica, still not quite used to the shock of seeing such a strong woman reverted to something so… feeble.

Mario was staring at his wife, as if the sheer intensity of his gaze would be enough to cure her.

"Mario?" Brittany said tentatively, not wanting to startle him. He didn't move. "Mario, I have some soup for you. Please try and eat something. Santana's… she's a little shaken. I'm going to wait outside with her. But we'll be back. I promise we'll be back."

"Can you believe she was threatening to leave me, a few days ago?" He said as Brittany turned to leave. She paused and turned back to him, though she got the feeling that he wasn't really speaking to her at all.

He continued. "She was going to leave me. And for a moment, I almost let her. I can't believe I almost let her. Can you imagine, going through something like this alone?" Brittany shook her head, though Mario wasn't watching. "I almost let her leave me, Brittany, because my daughter loves you."

"I know, Mario. And I've forgiven you already."

Mario shook his head. "I don't need your forgiveness, Mija. I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for being there for Santana when I wasn't. And thank you for being here for her now. It means the world to her… to me."

Brittany walked over and laid her hand on Mario's arm. She squeezed lightly. "Everything's going to be fine, Mario. Angelica's a trooper. She's strong. And she's far too stubborn to let something like this get in her way."

Mario chuckled dryly. "I know. Thank you for the soup. Now you best go out there, before Santana has a panic attack and leaves."

Brittany gave him a small smile. His eyes hadn't left Angelica's figure once. "Please eat something." She whispered, and he nodded. She wasn't even sure if he was listening to her anymore.

Brittany left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She glanced behind her and saw Santana, in the same place as when she left her, eyeing the door as if it were about to attack her.

Brittany smiled and extended her hand for Santana to take. Santana was looking pale, which automatically made Brittany's smile falter. "San? Are you okay?"

Santana just shook her head. She turned on her heel and sprinted off down the hall.

"Santana!" Brittany called, forgetting that they were in a hospital and were probably disturbing people. She ran after her girlfriend, trying vainly to catch her.

She expected Santana to run for the stairs, or the elevator, but she didn't. She turned into a doorway a few feet before Brittany got there. Brittany was running too quickly to stop and look at the sign.

Only when she was inside, hearing Santana retch over the toilet, did she realize that they had sprinted to a bathroom.

Santana hadn't had time to close the stall door. So Brittany walked in behind her, kneeled on the ground next to her, and held her hair back. She whispered soothing things, and stroked Santana's back in small circles, as her girlfriend tried to empty a stomach that had nothing in it.

"I'm sorry." Santana managed to mutter, when she had gained control of her gag reflex.

"Don't apologize." Brittany said softly. "You're doing nothing wrong. I'm sorry you got sick."

"It's just the smell… it was getting to me. I'm fine now, I think."

"Do you want some water?" Santana nodded. Brittany stood up and grabbed a paper cup that was sitting next to the sink. She filled it with cold water and handed it over to Santana, who rinsed her mouth out with it and spit into the toilet.

Her forehead was sweaty, and when she stood up, she was a little unsteady on her feet. Brittany grabbed her arm to keep her on balance.

"You're amazing Britt. Not many people would be so cool with all of this, so calm. And it's not just everyone that I let see me vomit."

Brittany chuckled. "I've seen you puke plenty of times."

"Oh yeah, go ahead and remind me, that's super attractive." Santana muttered, and Brittany giggled again.

"Are you okay now?"

Santana took a deep breath. "I will be."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

D**isclaimer: I do not own Glee, and I make no money off of these stories.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:**** I just wanted to say that a lot of this chapter (and the previous) are from my own personal experiences. About two months ago, my mother had to go into the hospital for her cancer surgery, and so I used my own thoughts to write Santana's. This was very much what it was like for me. Enjoy!**

A Matter of Miserable Time

By the second day, Santana had figured out how to pick the lock on the staff locker room. Brittany wasn't too pleased with her at first, but after 48 hours without a shower, she was willing to overlook the slightly questionable legality of the act.

The first time Santana came back to her, grinning, Brittany had frowned. "How do you even know how to pick locks?"

Santana shrugged. "I guess Puckerman wasn't completely useless."

Brittany had made a disapproving noise in the back of her throat, but the prospect of a hot shower was too good to pass up. Both girls absolutely refused to leave Angelica's side long enough to go home.

By the fifth day, Santana knew which shower had the best water pressure, which shifts left the place empty, which cafeteria attendant would slip her free food, and which patients to avoid. Brittany was constantly amused by Santana's grasp of the hospital's attitude. She compared it to their years in high school. In almost no time at all, Santana had the whole establishment figured out.

Brittany and Santana even met Mrs. Perkins down the hall on one of her walks around the floor. They had fallen in line beside her after she had called them 'simply adorable'.

Santana felt bad for Mrs. Perkins. She had been in the hospital for three weeks, and it wasn't likely that she would be discharged anytime soon. All she wanted was for her grandchildren to stop by. Santana and Brittany promised to stop by once a day, and they stood by that.

Every day at 3:30 they knocked on her door, and she called them in excitedly. They spent their time watching bad Spanish soap operas that Santana had to translate.

Mrs. Perkins found them incredibly exciting, and she practically swooned over the male leads. Santana and Brittany just laughed along with her.

She was a good listener. She reminded Santana a lot of her Abuela. She imagined that, had they still been in communication, she might have spent afternoons like this with her grandmother and her girlfriend. But that was out of the question.

Mrs. Perkins told them some pretty wonderful stories. When she was younger she used to be a dancer, and so she spent countless hours talking with Brittany about the world of dance. Santana, of course, had no idea what they were saying. They might as well be speaking Russian, for all she understood. But she loved to watch them interact. She loved watching Brittany do anything.

By day 7, Mrs. Perkins was telling her nurses about them. And Santana didn't mind.

But her time in the hospital wasn't always so nice. In fact, the first day had basically been hell, the second day, not much better. Santana was never very good at adjusting.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

6 Days Earlier

Santana started herself awake.

Brittany's head was on her shoulder, her mouth slightly open, breathing heavily. Mario was also asleep, slumped in his chair.

Santana blinked a few times and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She glanced at the clock on the opposite wall. It was 6:30 in the morning (the first morning of many Santana would spend in the hospital).

Santana's slight movements woke Brittany. She stirred, cracking her sore joints and groaning quietly.

"San?" She whispered. "Where are we?"

"The hospital, Britt."

"Who's hurt?"

"My mom's here, B. Don't you remember? She had her surgery two days ago."

Brittany's eyes flew open. "How is she?"

Santana glanced at her mother. She was sleeping. She still had dark circles under her eyes, and every time she shifted she whimpered. But her hands weren't looking as swollen, and her skin wasn't as pale and sickly-looking.

"She looks a lot better."

Brittany sat up straighter and ran her hands through her unkempt hair. "God, she looks so small."

Santana could only nod. Brittany turned to her and touched her arm concernedly. "Are you okay?"

Santana nodded again. "I'm doing the best I can."

Brittany kissed her cheek. "You're doing wonderful."

Santana sniffed back a few tears. "Do you think they have toothbrushes here?"

Brittany quirked an eyebrow. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Toothbrushes. We brought one with my mom, when we brought her stuff, but we forgot to bring our own. And we don't have any clothes. Or anything to do. And we're probably going to be here for a while, so…"

"Hey, hey now." Brittany said calmly, cutting across Santana. "Relax, okay? Give me your keys and I'll run home and get us some clothes and toothbrushes and books, and anything else you need."

Santana could only hug her. Her throat was too constricted to vocalize anything.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Santana must have drifted back off to sleep, because when she awoke again, her father was gone. Santana sat up straight. It was just her and her mother there.

Santana stood up and walked over to Angelica's bed, leaning over the side. She reached out slowly and brushed her mother's hand.

She recoiled when Angelica stirred.

She groaned and twisted her head from side to side, licking her lips.

"Mami? Are you thirsty?" Angelica nodded. Santana grabbed the cup on her bedside table and held the straw to her mother's mouth. Angelica drank slowly, but by the time she was done, the entire cup was empty.

Santana set it back down and her mother finally opened her eyes.

"Bright…" It was the only word she croaked out, and Santana was confused for a moment, until she realized her mother meant the lights, and ran over to shut them off. The only light in the room now was the soft glow of sunlight breaking through the thick curtains, the light seeping under the bathroom door, and the machines her mother was hooked up to. Santana found that the room looked far less threatening this way.

"Thank you." Her mother whispered, and winced.

"Don't talk, Mami. The doctor said you would still be hurting for a while."

Angelica sighed. "I don't like not doing anything."

"But you need to rest."

Angelica managed to move her head the slightest bit, taking in the rest of the room. "Where's Brittany? Where's your father?"

"Brittany ran home to get us some stuff, and Papi must have gone down to get food. Are you hungry? I can page the nurse, and they can bring you something…"

Angelica tried to shake her head, but could barely make the pillow move. She sighed. "No thank you Mija. I don't think my stomach would like it if I ate anything." Santana nodded. "But could you call the nurse? I need to use the bathroom."

Santana nodded and pushed the call button. Two minutes later, a nurse in pale blue scrubs walked in. She looked to be no older than Santana, and Santana was reminded a fair bit of Mercedes. The nurse was a larger woman, and black, and she had that small smile on her face that was very reminiscent of the diva Santana went to school with.

"How are you doing today, Mrs. Lopez? You called for us?"

"Yes. I have to use the restroom."

The nurse smiled kindly. "Of course. I'll have to help you." She turned to Santana. "I'm going to pull the curtain closed to give us some privacy."

Santana's brow furrowed for a moment, until she saw the nurse pull a bedpan from under the bed. Santana felt like she should be embarrassed. Her mother had to use a bedpan, because she was too hurt to get up and walk to the bathroom.

The nurse pulled the curtain shut, and Santana didn't want to stay in this room any longer. She left, closing the door softly behind her.

The hospital was coming alive. Because they were in the recovery wing, Santana didn't have to watch bloodied people be wheeled in on stretchers, which she was thankful for, and it was still too early for any of the patients to be making their sad exercise-rounds. The only people in the hallways were doctors and nurses, conversing quietly.

Santana sat on a bench opposite her mother's room and stared at the floor.

She heard shoes approaching, and a familiar set of keys jingling. She wasn't surprised when she felt Brittany's warm heat slip up next to her.

"Hey San. What are you doing out here?"

"Mom's going to the bathroom." Santana mumbled. She looked towards Brittany's lap and saw a large duffel bag sitting there.

Brittany didn't ask Santana any more questions. She just held up the bag. "I got toothbrushes, toothpaste, a hairbrush, shampoo and soap, socks, your slippers, comfy clothes, nice clothes, your computer, a few of your books, my iPod… I'm sorry, I didn't really know what you wanted, and this was all I could think of."

Santana smiled and kissed Brittany on the cheek. "Thank you Britt. It's more than enough."

Brittany sighed. "Well that's a relief. Do you want to go clean up while your mom's doing her thing?"

Santana nodded and allowed Brittany to grab her hand and pull her to her feet. They walked hand and hand through the hallways. Brittany started to lead her into the public bathrooms, but Santana shook her head, and gestured towards the staff ones.

Brittany frowned. "But we're not allowed in there."

Santana shrugged. "It's so much nicer. They have showers and everything. Come on Britt, I've been in there plenty of times when I came to see Dad work."

"Well…" Brittany chewed on her lip worriedly, "isn't it locked?"

Santana walked over to the door and tried the handle. She frowned slightly. "Well that's unfortunate."

Brittany smiled, looking a little relieved. "Oh well, guess we'll have to use the regular-people bathroom." She said, moving towards the adjacent door.

"Hang on Britt, I got this." Santana said, kneeling down in front of the door. "Keep a lookout, will you?"

Brittany continued to bite her lip as she glanced up and down the hallway. "I don't like this."

"Brittany calm down. It's not that big of a deal. The most they'll do is scold us for being in here."

"Still though…"

Santana pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and straightened it. She slid it into the lock and jiggled it up and down a few times. "Oh, easy." She whispered. Ten seconds later, she was in.

She turned around, beaming. Brittany frowned. "How do you even know how to pick locks?"

Santana shrugged. "I guess Puckerman wasn't completely useless." She said. Brittany had to giggle.

"I don't see why we can't just use the other bathroom."

"Because the other bathroom doesn't have showers, or towels, or anything other than toilets. Please B I did so much work getting us in." She pouted at her girlfriend, giving her best puppy dog face.

Brittany sighed in defeat. "Fine, but I still don't like it."

The second she stepped under the hot water, however, she completely forgot that she was supposed to be unhappy with breaking in.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

They showered separately. Santana already felt guilty about leaving her mother for so long (especially when she had no idea where her father was), she didn't need to add 'enjoying sex with my girlfriend' to that. Though she couldn't help but feel like she was missing a major opportunity.

Brittany, it seemed, had forgotten to bring a hairdryer, but Santana didn't really mind. She always liked Brittany's hair natural and wavy the best.

Santana felt a billion times better once her hair was clean and her muscles were relaxed. That and a fresh pair of clothes, and Santana was practically chipper.

They walked back to Angelica's room hand-in-hand. They entered without knocking, and there was Santana's mother, sitting up in bed, eating a bowl of soup. The food was putting color back in her cheeks.

She brought her head up when she heard the door to her room opening. "Hola Mija. Where were you two?" She eyed their wet hair and frowned. "Is it raining?"

"No Mami. Britt-Britt and I were just showering."

Mrs. Lopez's eyes narrowed further in confusion. "But where…?"

"Uhh…" Santana rubbed the back of her neck, "we may or may not have broken into the nurse's locker room." Brittany nudged her with her elbow. "And by 'we' I mean 'I'."

Angelica chuckled. "Well I'm jealous. All I get are sponge baths." Santana made a face. "My sentiments precisely."

"So where's Papi? Why hasn't he come back yet?"

Angelica just shook her head. "I have no idea. And I can't exactly get up to look for him…"

"I'll go look." Brittany said quickly. "I really don't mind. Plus I totally remember my way around this place."

"You sure Britt?"

"Oh yeah. Spend time with your mom. I'll go find your dad."

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

Brittany had expected it to be more difficult. Really, once she rounded the second corner, on her way to Mario's office, screaming voices caught her attention. So now, not even ten minutes after leaving Santana in her mother's hospital room, Brittany was watching her girlfriend's father lose it.

"You must be out of your mind." Mario growled at a middle-aged woman. Brittany studied her face and recognized her as Dr. Reid, Angelica's physician.

"Now calm down Mario. You're over reacting."

"Like hell I am." He spat. "How dare you suggest something like this? She's not ready. She just got out of surgery, for Christ's sake! She's not strong enough to undergo chemo!"

"We can't really afford to wait any longer."

"She's going to be vulnerable enough as it is, what with the surgery leaving her body open and weak. You can't just go around destroying her immune system!"

"You know as well as I do that it takes a few rounds to become completely… effective. And the surgery wasn't enough Mario, you know that."

"Of course I know that! But I don't see what waiting another two days is going to do to hurt my wife!"

"I'm her doctor Mario, not you. You have no jurisdiction on this case."

Mario growled and stood up from his chair, and that was when Brittany decided it would be safest to run into the room.

"Mario." She said, bursting through the door. "I was looking all over for you. Angelica's awake."

Both doctors straightened themselves out. Dr. Reid took this opportunity to let herself out of the room. "This isn't over, Mario. I won't have you undermining my authority."

Mario opened his mouth to retort, but she was gone. "Fuck." He muttered, slapping his hand down onto his desk roughly. "Bitch, damn, hell, shit balls."

"Are you alright?" Brittany asked.

Mario sighed. "I just… if I were her doctor, I wouldn't have done it this way. It's incredibly dangerous, and I refuse to lose my wife to something as ridiculous as a doctor's error."

"She'll be fine Mario."

"You can't know that Brittany. Chemotherapy is very difficult on people. You get very sick, your hair falls out, your muscles are sore and tired all the time… I've seen it so many times. And to have it done this way…"

Brittany didn't know how to respond. She felt like she should be consoling him, but she didn't know how to do it. The most Brittany could do was stand there and shift uncomfortably.

"Can you… can you not mention this to Santana or her mother?" Mario asked softly.

"Of course. I can keep secrets."

Mario looked up at her, and his gaze was charged with something Brittany didn't recognize on his face. "I know you can."

It made her uncomfortable.

And she didn't even know why.

~SB~SB~SB~SB~

**A/N:**** I suck for making you all wait this long. Also, I don't know how much longer this story's going to be, but I've basically done all the most important parts. I don't see that many more chapters, though, (and maybe an Epilogue, if I feel like it).Thank you for sticking with this so far!**

D**isclaimer: I do not own Glee, and I make no money off of these stories.**


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